


Emotionally Fascinating

by lilyplujambah, RobotInSpace



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, Emotions, F/M, M/M, New Planets, Roleplay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:29:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24385093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilyplujambah/pseuds/lilyplujambah, https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobotInSpace/pseuds/RobotInSpace
Summary: At the sound of Lieutenant Uhura’s voice, Commander Spock awakes from his reverie. "I'm receiving a distress signal from the planet Di'jOn - on the border of Federation space, Captain." The Lieutenant flicks a number of switches in haste before continuing. "The signal is unknown, I don't recognise the frequencies." Spock's attention moves from Nyota to the console before him when she says, "They appear to speak English, Captain."
Relationships: C-3PO/R2-D2, Spock & C-3PO, Spock/Nyota Uhura
Comments: 5
Kudos: 17





	1. Di'jOn

**Author's Note:**

> This is originally a roleplay with a vague, uncertain plot.  
>   
> Disclaimer: We do not own anything in association with Star Trek or Star Wars.  
> 

"Who are these people?!" Han Solo exclaims as numerous unknown weapons fire at the _Millennium Falcon_.  
  
"It is impossible to discern as we are in a completely different galaxy," C-3PO responds. The _Millennium Falcon_ rocks unstably as the crew scramble to keep the ship in flight.  
  
"We’ve lost our weapons. And…" Chewbacca wails loudly in response to Solo’s observations. "Our engines are gone." Solo moves frantically over the controls. "Brace for impact," he orders, giving up. It’s by no means the first time he’s crashed his ship.  
  
Both droids begin swearing in binary.  
  
"That is not helping," Luke points out.  
  
The ship begins to shake and vibrate with the rapid and turbulent descent. Threepio holds on tightly to his seat as they bounce up and down before eventually settling with an audible thump.  
  
"Well, this is convenient!" Solo mumbles loudly.  
  
"I’m sending out a distress signal," C-3PO announces as he clambers to the controls.  
  
"Come on, Chewie. Let’s go and grab some tools. We have a job to do."  
  
"Hello, hello, is anyone there? This is C-3PO aboard the _Millennium Falcon_. We seem to have crashed."  
  
Solo mumbles, "no shit."  
  
***  
  
At the sound of Lieutenant Uhura’s voice, Commander Spock awakes from his reverie. "I'm receiving a distress signal from the planet Di'jOn - on the border of Federation space, Captain." The Lieutenant flicks a number of switches in haste before continuing. "The signal is unknown, I don't recognise the frequencies." Spock's attention moves from Nyota to the console before him when she says, "They appear to speak English, Captain."  
  
Before the Captain has even opened his mouth to say, "Commander Spock, report," he has already begun analysing the data before him.  
  
"Unknown species, Captain. Four humanoid life signs, two droid life signs. It is a habitable planet, Captain, but there appear to be no life signs other than those that are presently sending the distress signal. Further analysis must be conducted on the planet before I am able to ascertain any more information."  
  
"Hail them, Uhura." The Captain's response is measured as he looks directly at the screen of the bridge. There is an underlying note of concern that crosses the bridge, though no-one seems outwardly strained.  
  
"I'm hailing them, but they're not responding. Do you want me to try again?" The Captain nods.  
  
Spock looks over his shoulder. "Captain." The man in question turns to him. "It is an unknown ship. The alloy appears to be unrecognisable by our database." Everyone knows the procedure and they become invested in their stations.  
  
Spock watches as Uhura tries again, his job on hold until the machine is finished on its own. "Hello. I am Lieutenant Uhura of the starship _Enterprise_. We have received your distress signal. We come in peace. Please respond to our hails."  
  
The furrow-browed communications officer glances at Captain Kirk. "Sir, I don’t think they know what a 'hail' is?" She turns back to the communications array. "It is a call," she explains, at a loss.  
  
A silence fills the bridge as the Lieutenant attempts to describe the technology. "A constant connection, yes."  
  
The unknown ship makes the connection. " _Hello? Is this what you meant?_ "  
  
Nyota stands again. "Captain, we have a connection." Spock restrains himself from responding ‘that is apparent’ and, instead, straightens in his seat.  
  
"I am Captain James Kirk of the USS _Enterprise_ for the Federation of Planets. We are on a peaceful mission. Please identify yourselves." The Captain paces as he speaks. The connection is audio-only; Spock is unable to see those in distress.  
  
"Captain Han Solo," says a different voice than before, "I'm the Captain of this ship, the _Millennium Falcon_ , we have Luke Skywalker, Chewbacca, Leia Organa, R2-D2, and Goldenrod." There was a small series of beeps before, "I am C-3PO, Human-Cyborg relations!"  
  
Spock subtly frowns as he hears Kirk chuckle. "With me is my First Officer and Chief Science Officer, Commander Spock, Chief Medical Officer, Doctor McCoy, Chief Communications Officer, Lieutenant Uhura. And my Helmsmen, Lieutenants Sulu and Chekov."  
  
Numerous voices sound through the bridge. "We could use a bit of assistance here," the original voice - C-3PO - says.  
  
A woman sarcastically says, "You think?"  
  
The first voice continues, "We have crash-landed on an unfamiliar planet and our ship is in need of repairs."  
  
"My ship," another voice interjects; Captain Solo, perhaps.  
  
"If you could help us out, that would be great."  
  
Kirk stands straighter, despite the pictureless nature of the call. "We will send a shuttle pod down to assess the situation." Lieutenant Uhura closed off the link, aware of Kirk’s ways. "Spock, Uhura, Bones, you're with me."  
  
Spock stands. "Captain, must I remind you that regulation-"  
  
"I am coming, Spock," Kirk states.  
  
"The fact remains that-"  
  
"And so are you." The Captain, the Doctor, and Uhura enter the turbolift.  
  
"I would insist, however, I believe that, as usual, it would be a useless endeavour."  
  
"Indeed, Spock. Now, are you coming? Or do I have to make that an order?"  
  
Spock follows helplessly as the doors close behind him. The four of them stride to _Shuttlepod One_ , not without haste.  
  
Once on with their descent, Spock feels the shuttle rattle around them as they come to an abrupt halt. "Captain?" he asks. He knows Kirk to be an adequate, if not, acceptable pilot.  
  
"Sorry, Spock," Kirk says with undisguised sarcasm.  
  
Spock steps out of the vehicle first, followed, not distantly, by the Captain. "You see anything?"  
  
"There is a crash site forty-nine metres in that direction," as he points, they all look up to see a somewhat busted starship. "The sensors maintain that the ship is made of numerous alloys. None of which are in our database."  
  
Following a direct path, the four eventually reach the ship. "Spock?"  
  
"All life signs are inside this ship," he says as he waves some instrumentation at what appears to be the door.  
  
"I sense a presence," a quieted voice from inside the vehicle says.  
  
"What should we do?" another voice asks, with unmasked tentativeness. If it weren’t for the slight emotion, Spock would believe it was the droid. The voices are quiet and Spock doubts that the Captain and Doctor can hear them - Nyota, with her aural sensitivity, most certainly can. Spock follows Kirk's silent directions and proceeds to set his phaser to the laser beam setting. Together, they begin to cut through the latches of the door. The tracings light up in bright sparks and both Uhura and McCoy step back in alarm. A ‘bwshzzz’ sounds from behind the door. With weapons raised and on stun, the four senior officers step into formation as the door falls in front of them.  
  
"You could have knocked!" The man who appears to be in charge says, ready to shoot. A golden droid disappears into the ship.  
  
"He has a point, Captain," Uhura says, somewhat disapprovingly.  
  
Spock looks at Kirk. "It might be beneficial to first contacts if you withhold from lasering their ship into pieces upon making their acquaintance."  
  
"For once I'm with the copper-clotted sub-alien," McCoy says, his strong, southern accent coming through.  
  
Spock raises an eyebrow. "I fail to see how the composi-"  
  
"Okay! I don't need any backseat drivers, thank you very much," Kirk interrupts Spock.  
  
"If you're done with your banter," the woman from the fallen ship interjects, "We would like to know what's going on." Spock thinks back to those who were introduced aboard the unknown ship. Leia; that appears to be the only female aboard.  
  
"We apologise," Spock says, aware that Kirk would likely have said something that escalated the situation.  
  
"I am Captain James T. Kirk of the USS _Enterprise_. Pleased to meet you," the Captain says, straightening his shoulders and boasting his chest. Nyota does not mask her sigh.  
  
"Captain Han Solo," the leader says. "Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa, Chewbacca, R2-D2, and Goldenrod." He says, pointing to everyone respectively. The man named ‘Luke’ nods.  
  
"For the last time, Sir! I am C-3PO! Human-Cyborg relations," the tall droid exclaims.  
  
Nyota steps forward. "I am Lieutenant Uhura, this is Commander Spock..." Spock nods. "And this is Doctor McCoy." The Doctor waves. "We received your distress call and would like to know what we can do to help."  
  
C-3PO speaks up. "Well, we all have no idea where we are right now and the ship is badly damaged."  
  
"You are the planet Di'jOn. This system is located on the border of Federation Space; the border of the Alpha and Gamma quadrants," Spock states. "If you would be amenable to our taking closer scans of your starship, we may be able to determine the cause of your crash."  
  
Captain Solo nods. "Go ahead." C-3PO backs against a wall anxiously and watches the _Enterprise_ crew carefully with his optical units.  
  
Spock leads the away team inside the _Millenium Falcon_. With scanners out, he and Kirk walk the ship.  
  
Bones stops beside the tall droid, C-3PO. "Do you know if anyone's been injured in the crash?"  
  
"Not that I know of, no. Captain Solo is pretty good at crashing..."  
  
"Hey!" Spock hears from the other side of the room.  
  
He turns around. "How often does this occur, precisely?" he asks C-3PO.  
  
"Very often, sir."  
  
"Can it before I sell you for spare parts!" The same man as before, Captain Solo, threatens.  
  
"Yes, sir." C-3PO stops talking.  
  
As McCoy joins Kirk, Spock walks over to C-3PO. "I am not familiar with your design. Where are you from?"  
  
"Yeah, why do you speak English?" Uhura inquires.  
  
"My parts are manufactured from the Company Cybot Galactica. I do not know what planet I was made on. That memory is lost." The droid pauses. "Galactic Basic? It's known as that on Aurebesh, where I am from, and is the standard language. I am fluent in over six million forms of communication."  
  
"Fascinating."  
  
"Galactic Basic," Nyota echoes, she moves closer to Spock. "That- Are you from the Delta Quadrant or something?"  
  
"Or perhaps deeper in the Gamma Quadrant?" Spock suggests.  
  
"I'm embarrassed to say, but I do not know."  
  
"Your ship appears to have been manufactured many decades ago and yet the technology appears relatively advanced. Moreover, I do not recognise any of your technology. Even your navigation systems do not follow the standard format."  
  
"Hey, my ships old but not that old," says Han.  
  
Threepio speaks up again, "Perhaps we are very far away from our Galaxy..."  
  
"Your galaxy?!" A huge smile blossoms over Nyota's face. "You're from another galaxy?" Spock feels his heart flutter. "Spock, I didn't even know that was possible!"  
  
"Indeed. We have not yet developed the technology, Nyota." The use of her given name only appears to delight her further.  
  
Spock looks C-3PO over.  
  
"Oh, dear. I apologize. Did I say something wrong?" Threepio shuffles closer to Artoo. "This is our first time out of the Galaxy, too. My apologies."  
  
"Your apology is not necessary. You did not offend us." Spock looks over the other droid. "May I take a look at your Warp drive?"  
  
Artoo beeps. Han quirks a brow, "You mean Hyperdrive? Chewie's back there working on it, but yeah, go ahead."  
  
As Spock turns around, he hears Nyota ask, "May I take a look at your xenolinguistics database?"  
  
"We don't have one on the ship..." The other droid, R2-D2, beeps again. "Oh... you mean me? I'm not sure..." C-3PO sounds almost hesitant.  
  
"You're the database?" is the last thing Spock hears before a loud wail comes from the door in front of him.  
  
As he walks through, a large mammal, named Chewbacca, roars in frustration about the broken Hyperdrive. He does not seem to notice Spock there yet.  
  
"Do you require assistance?" Spock asks, despite being uncertain as to whether the animal understands English.  
  
"Raaaaaururgh." He nods and gestures to the Hyperdrive.  
  
Spock pulls out his scanner and begins documenting the hyperdrive. He walks around cautiously and finds a large crack in the side of the machine. "May I repair this?"  
  
"Aarh." Chewbacca nods again  
  
Spock raises his communicator to his mouth. "Captain, may Mr. Scott assist me?"  
  
"Sure, Commander. I'll call him down," Kirk responds through the comm-link. He places the comm back in his belt and makes a detailed analysis of the Hyperdrive. Unlike a Warp drive, it is a vertical piece of equipment. There are five blue slats that appear to carry the energy inside the engine. It is in no way as large as a Warp drive, Spock determines.  
  
"I was not aware that the transporter is that accurate," is Spock’s only comment when Scotty appears, not minutes later, right beside him.  
  
"That’s mighty praise coming from you, Commander." He smiles. "Now, what'd you need?" he says with a resonant Scottish lilt.  
  
***  
  
The woman, named Lieutenant Uhura, looks around the interior of the ship. Threepio has always been wary of intruders - the possibility of them being with the Empire is not unlikely. "This is so different from any other ship I've seen. That being said, when I applied for Starfleet, I had never expected to meet people from another galaxy." She continues to wander, seemingly aimlessly. “They’d said it was impossible.” Starfleet? He is not familiar with the name.  
  
Threepio keeps his eyes on her. He does not know what to do in this situation. "Please do not touch anything unless deemed necessary."  
  
"Certainly." As she finds the helm, she asks, "So, what languages do you know?"  
  
"I am fluent in over six million forms of communication." He reminds her.  
  
"Which languages, specifically?" She looks directly at him. "Which languages do you speak most often?"  
  
Threepio stiffens and glances at Artoo. "Oh, um... Some languages that I speak are Galactic Basic, Binary, Bocce, Bothese, Catharese, Cheunh, Dosh, Dug, Durese, Ewokese, Gamorrese, Geonosian, Hapan, High Galactic, Huttese, Jawaese, Kaleesh, Kaminoan, Mando'a, Olys Corellisi, Pak Pak, Rodese, Shyriiwook, Snivvian, Sullustese, Tarc, Togruti, Twi'leki, Tusken, and Yuuzhan Vong. I can also understand Sith, but it is against my protocol to translate it. I know many more languages, but it would take quite a long time to list them all."  
  
"So, you're like a universal translator? You're a database of languages? Is that your job? You're the linguist?" The Lieutenant’s eyes are wide and a broad smile coats her expression.  
  
"I am a protocol droid, designed for protocol and etiquette. I can do many tasks." Threepio doesn’t prefer the questions. For all he’s aware, they may be spies for the Empire.  
  
She simply nods as the Commander returns to join them. "What tasks do you perform aboard this ship? What, precisely, is your assignment?"  
  
"He's an annoyance," says Han. He is still repairing a small fuse box in the corner.  
  
"Fascinating." Commander Spock walks across and scans the helm with his odd-shaped instruments. "Perhaps, you should consider refining your crew. Furthermore, it may simplify matters if you were to define every individuals' roles." He turns around. "I presume," he begins as he makes his way back, "That you are not ranking officers of a greater Federation or Empire?"  
  
Threepio sighs - as much as a droid can do. "Well, if you need further clarification... Captain Han Solo is the Captain of this ship. Chewbacca is his co-pilot. Then we have Princess Leia Organa and Jedi Master Luke Skywalker. And then there's I, C-3PO, a protocol droid and this is my astromech counterpart, R2-D2... And, no, we are definitely not with the Empire."  
  
"A princess? Wow!" Lieutenant Uhura exclaims quietly. "Which Empire?" ‘Probably not with the Empire, then.’  
  
"They are almost certainly not with the Klingon Empire." ‘What is the Klingon Empire?’ Threepio wonders.  
  
"I’d assume, but how'd you know?"  
  
Commander Spock stills and looks at the Lieutenant. "I believe they would have killed us by now."  
  
"You haven't heard of Darth Vader or Emperor Palpatine have you?" Threepio asks carefully, interjecting their guests' debate.  
  
"No, we are not familiar with those names."  
  
"Oh thank the maker!" Threepio exclaims.  
  
Uhura observes Threepio closely. "Who are they? Are they trying to kill you?"  
  
"You are fugitives?" Spock supplies.  
  
"They ruled our Galaxy with an iron fist. We were the Resistance. We're trying to help rebuild, but got off track because someone crashed the ship..." Were they not with company, Threepio would be sure that Han would slap him right then and there. "But some people still hold their ideas, so it never hurts to be conscious."  
  
Captain Kirk and Doctor McCoy return from their tour of the ship. "How'd you crash, anyway?"  
  
"They were attacked," the Commander says.  
  
"By who?"  
  
"I am unsure." Commander Spock looks at Threepio almost questioningly, an eyebrow raised but no other sign of confusion. He doesn’t seem to display his emotions.  
  
Threepio processes the information. "We were attacked?! I thought it was just Captain Solo's flying skills..." Han glares at him.  
  
"There are numerous suggestions of photon fire scattered over your outer hull plating. Albeit, the hyperdrive likely did crack on impact."  
  
"Oh, dear! Oh, no!" A thrill of fear runs through his wiring.  
  
"Oi, C-3PO, right...?" McCoy starts. Threepio nods.  
  
"You need to chill. We're here to help you." Bones looks at Spock. "So, Mr. Spock, what's the plan?"  
  
"Doctor, why must you assume that I have a plan?"  
  
"Why would my temperature have anything to do with this?" Threepio looks confusedly at the Doctor.  
  
"It is a figure of speech, robot." McCoy sighs and takes a walk around the room they're in.  
  
"It is a human colloquialism. One that I am uncertain of the reason for its meaning, though it may possibly be related to the decrease in speed that atoms experience when an object reduces in temperature. 'Chill', I believe, is derived from the expression 'chill out' which essentially means to calm down," Spock explains, evidently used to clarifying terms and expressions to other cultures. Threepio decides that he is the opposite of chill.  
  
The Captain of the _Enterprise_ steps up and addresses Han. "Hello - It's Captain Solo, right?"  
  
He nods in response. "The one and only." Threepio sees Leia roll her eyes.  
  
Captain Kirk glances at Leia, a smirk on his face. ‘Oh dear,’ Threepio thinks. "Well, Captain Solo, as always, my crew is on as much a diplomatic mission as an adventurous one. We would be honoured to invite you, and your crew, aboard our ship."  
  
"We have particular technologies that you appear to be without. It would be illogical for us to withhold it from an intelligent race such as yours," Commander Spock says. Threepio might think the pointy-eared _Enterprise_ officer is praising the humans if it weren’t for the even tone and absence of emotion.  
  
"I, for one, would be honoured to board your ship," Han says. Leia, nods, giving Kirk a death stare. Threepio places his hand on Artoo in nervousness.  
  
The engineer - Threepio does not know his name - is the one who talks into the communications radio, saying, "Keenser, beam us up, will you? And our guests."  
  
"Beam?" Threepio asks nervously.  
  
"The transporter converts matter into energy and then back into matter. I believe it is colloquially referred to as teleportation." It is the slanted-eyebrowed Commander that explains.  
  
It doesn't help, though, he is now more nervous. A small pulse of electricity runs through his wires. "Is it dangerous?"  
  
"Indeed. There have been numerous instances in which the matter stream has been intercepted or the alignment technology has been depolarized," Commander Spock says, seemingly unaware that he is frightening Threepio. “In those cases, such an occurrence as appearance in the mirror universe or deformation or cellular mutation is not uncommon.”  
  
"Spock, are you trying to give our guests a heart attack?" Captain Kirk asks.  
  
"If you are truly afraid, I will transport you with our shuttle pod," Spock askes, pointedly to Threepio. He shakes slightly.  
  
"I do not have a heart that can be attacked..." Artoo looks aware that Threepio may be nearing a malfunction soon at this rate. Artoo nudges his taller counterpart. Threepio relaxes slowly at the support of his closest friend. "I believe I will be fine, Sir."  
  
"Nevertheless, we will convene back at the ship. Captain." Spock nods at him before leaving. He makes it to the exterior door that he and Kirk had blown off, when he realises that the communications Lieutenant is following him.  
  
C-3PO nervously waits beside R2-D2, who is honestly the only sentient that is able to keep him in one piece.  
  
Around those left in the _Falcon_ , a beam of energy appears as they begin to disappear - fading in and out of reality, becoming almost transparent. Threepio is not confident in the mode of transportation, but is glad for the experience. Not every protocol droid is placed in such situations. It is instances like these that it would not be unwise to thank Han.


	2. Enterprise

Spock converges with the crew on the bridge of the USS Enterprise as planned. ‘The bridge appears smaller when there is a larger capacity of people inside it,’ Spock thinks, while further wondering why he gets that impression.  
  
"We are on an unfamiliar ship with unfamiliar technology, with unfamiliar people... the odds of this going wrong-" the tall droid begins. The crew of the _Falcon_ , specifically Captain Solo, R2-D2, and C-3PO, are stained with grime and Spock can’t help but feel a wave of distaste at the contrast of such figures against the bright, white walls of the modernised _Enterprise_.  
  
Captain Solo glares at the droid. "Never tell me the odds!" he instructs quickly and strictly. Spock considers how illogical that attitude is.  
  
"Welcome to the _Enterprise_! I'll take you for a walk around?" Kirk is always on the ball when he has guests; he works to make the best impression of Starfleet and the Federation. Despite this, he winks at Princess Leia before leading the group to the turbolift.  
  
The woman in question rolls her eyes before walking along with the now-moving group. The droids tread behind and C-3PO keeps his robotic hand on R2-D2’s dome. The Captain of the _Falcon_ looks around the ship, apparently dumbfounded. In comparison to the barely-held-together ship of Solo’s the _Enterprise_ is entirely too modern. Lining the walls are a wealth of technological advancements that are absent on the dusted walls of the old ship. Although Spock is incredibly familiar with the common cleanliness on the ship on which he serves, or perhaps in spite of it, the _Falcon_ intrigues him. The ship has capabilities that exceed that of the _Enterprise_ and yet it looks only a little more then scrapped together pieces of junk.  
  
Spock watches as Kirk walks directly beside Princess Leia and points out specific places around the ship. Though it doesn't take much effort, Spock is still disappointed that he must suppress a sigh. "C-3PO, what species dominate the galaxy where you reside?" Spock begins, by way of finding something more interesting to take part in. At least, a discussion with a droid differs from the common occurrence of Kirk’s flirting.  
  
"There are many species, but humans appear to be in most positions of power," The droid informs. Spock notices that, while Jim isn't looking, Leia switches spots with Luke. They appear to be waiting to discover how long it will take him to realize. An odd, yet somewhat effective attempt at humour, Spock decides. "Some species of my Galaxy are still unknown," C-3PO finishes.  
  
Spock nods towards the three humanoids. "They are humans?" he asks, just to be certain. During his time at Starfleet, he has met many species that look very similar to humans, though it has later been revealed that they are not.  
  
"Yes, they are humans." The droids confirmation awakens a slight unsettling in Spock’s stomach. Kirk moves back beside the princess and risks a hand on the princess’ shoulder to point something out. From countless experiences, Spock is almost certain that the Captain’s advances will not succeed."What is their home planet?" Spock nods towards Chewie. "They originate from the same planet?"  
  
Princess Leia punches Kirk. The retaliation was earlier than Spock would’ve expected. At first, Spock thinks of intervening but then realises that, despite regulation, the Captain deserves it. "Hands off!" Leia exclaims.  
  
Jim nods at Leia but continues to make verbal advances. Seemingly unwilling to take the hint.  
  
Threepio continues, "Oh, dear... Well, um... Chewbacca is a Wookie. He is from Kashyyyk. Princess Leia is from Alderaan, Master Luke is from Tatooine and Captain Solo is from Corellia."  
  
Although Spock feels the urge to stop and regard the droid properly, he does not. "Their species have migrated to multiple planets?"  
  
"Many theorize that Humans originated on Coruscant. Many species are scattered throughout our Galaxy. It's very hard to tell." The droid appears slightly bothered by the questions - as bothered as a droid can be.  
  
"Fascinating."  
  
Spock sees Kirk, in the distance, wink, once again, at Leia. "Humans, or Terrans, originated from the planet Earth, or Terra; in the Milky Way, that is,” Spock informs C-3PO.  
  
"Perhaps they came from multiple places. Also, Captain Kirk, I advise you to not continue in your advances," Threepio calls out to the _Enterprise_ ’s commander.  
  
Han clears his throat. "She's with me, pal." Leia lets out an annoyed sigh.  
  
Kirk stiffens. "Was I that obvious?"  
  
"You are always incredibly transparent in your advances on women, Captain."  
  
"Okay, Spock. Like you'd know anything about women." Spock silences. Kirk doesn't know anything of the courtship beginning his five-year relationship with Nyota. "Perhaps," Spock answers Threepio.  
  
"You were very obvious," Luke says.  
  
Leia speaks up, "I suggest you not flirt with strangers before you get punched in the face one day."  
  
Artoo chirrups. "No, you can not fly the ship!" Threepio protests.  
  
‘It is a chaos of an unfamiliar crew and an unfamiliar banter,’ Spock thinks. ‘Very distracting.’  
  
"I've had my face punched so many times, Sweetheart. I'm sure I can deal with the pain." Kirk smirks. This time, Nyota is the one who sighs exasperatedly from in front of Spock. He chances a glance at her, aware of the days when Jim would make advances on her. ‘That was so long ago.’  
  
Leia gives Kirk a rude hand gesture and Artoo makes a sound that sounds like laughter.  
  
"Fascinating," is all Spock says before turning his attention back to Threepio. "Are your crew always this familiar with one another?"  
  
"I suppose so, yes," Threepio replies.  
  
"Your fraternisation with one another is not counterproductive? Surely, if two were to get into a disagreement, your team would become dysfunctional?"  
  
Threepio stiffens a bit, "I do not know how to respond to that."  
  
Artoo comments a series of beeps. [We've gotten this far together haven't we?]  
  
"Yes, I suppose you're right, Artoo."  
  
"That is fortunate. Though, it appears, that even with regulations against it in place, crewmen fraternise." From in front of them, Nyota stifles a laugh.  
  
Threepio tilts his head, ever so slightly, in curiosity.  
  
"Lieutenant," Spock says, not unkindly. He reprimands her without mirth.  
  
"Commander." Nyota looks down with reddened cheeks and falls in step beside him.  
  
"Aarrrruhhhh," Chewie says.  
  
Han seems annoyed. "Well, you should've eaten earlier!" Luke shakes his head.  
  
When Spock is certain the Captain's attention is occupied by their guests, he raises two fingers to Nyota. She responds in kind, pressing the pads of her own fingers against his. They are silent as they walk, allowing their thoughts and emotions to blend and combine with the other’s. Occasionally, Nyota smiles at a wave of emotion he sends her and Spock squeezes her fingers to express his gratitude. They are usually cautious about publicising their fraternisation - save the regular slip up where Nyota recognises and laughs at Spock's joke or Spock finds himself staring at Nyota for unjustifiable periods of time. It is a healthy relationship. But one built off fleeting glances and stolen kisses. Over the years, Spock has come to understand that Nyota holds a strong affection for him - even with all his emotional turmoil, logic, self-destruction, and identity issues. She loves him, she's said as much before. So when Nyota looks in his direction and smiles broadly, as a wave of that love and affection flows through their connected hands, Spock leans down and presses the lightest of pecks to her lips. It's the shortest of kisses, almost pressureless in its strength, but nevertheless, Spock not only feels but sees Nyota's gratitude as she smiles and bumps her body against his. Spock does not suppress the rise of butterflies in his stomach, nor the urge to smile. The corners of his lips quirk up and his lips tighten, albeit ever so slightly. He takes the moment to bask in their shared affection despite the goings around them.  
  
Spock witnesses Luke and Artoo notice this, share a glance but say nothing of it. Leia is busy glaring at Kirk and Han and Chewie are arguing about lunch while Threepio is trying to keep the peace.  
  
Luke speaks up, "So how old is this ship?" He is trying to ease some of the tension here.  
  
"I'm sure the pointy-eared half-blood would know the exact date of its launch and-"  
  
"You are correct, Doctor, I do know the basic manufacturing details of the vessel that I serve as a senior officer aboard," Spock returns, shamelessly cutting McCoy off and challenging him. "The USS _Enterprise_ was first officially launched in the year 2258 with Captain Pike as commanding officer, during the emergency rescue of my species. It had been in construction for six years prior and was later destroyed during an attack in the orbit of the planet Altamid. This particular ship is only six months old. It was built at the Yorktown starbase and has the model identification 'NCC - 1701 D' unlike its predecessor with the identification 'NCC - 1701 C'. It is an exact replica in physical appearance, though some of the technology has been updated."  
  
"That is very interesting," says Threepio making a mental note about the ship and a spare mental note to watch out for McCoy. "Thank you for the information, Sir." Luke nods.  
  
Spock nods. And when Kirk responds, "I'm the commanding officer, now," Spock has to suppress the urge to respond with a line not dissimilar to that of 'no shit'.  
  
"Yeah, we figured," Han says.  
  
Artoo lets out another string of binary: [Usually the one in charge has the biggest ego.] Threepio can't help from laughing. It's rare when Threepio laughs, so Artoo is proud of himself.  
  
Spock has to suppress a laugh at Artoo's comment. "Indeed, you are correct, R2-D2. There is a... recurring phenomenon. I was not aware that droids had the ability to elicit humour."  
  
Much to Artoo's dismay, his counterpart stops laughing. Threepio is shocked. "You can understand him?"  
  
Artoo chirps: [Thanks, I try.]  
  
[Finally, a meatbag with brains,] Artoo utters.  
  
"Indeed, I can understand binary, C-3PO. It is hardly complex. I have encouraged Lieutenant Uhura, as a communications officer, to learn it. She has not." Spock looks up when the woman in question wacks him on the arm.  
  
McCoy moves closer to Artoo, "so, that incomprehensible string of beeps is how you speak?"  
  
Artoo makes a brapping noise: [What's it to ya?] Threepio puts his hand on Artoo’s smooth dome.  
  
Trying to calm himself down, he retorts, "wow, excellent observation, Sir, you should become a detective!" Now it was Artoo's turn to laugh.  
  
"Oh, Jesus! Now they're laughing at me?"  
  
"Indeed, they are, Doctor. It is rather... humorous - I must concur.”  
  
When no-one is paying attention, Nyota whispers to Spock, "what'd the droid say?"  
  
"The first instance, 'usually the one in charge has the biggest ego'. The second, 'what's it to you'." Nyota snorts and turns to look in the direction they are headed. "Nyota, would you be amenable to my teaching you binary this evening?" the Lieutenant smiles and looks back at him. "Certainly, Spock. I'd be... amenable." A thrill runs through his spine at the prospect of spending an extraordinary amount of time with his girlfriend. He’s always enjoyed Nyota’s company; her companionship is all he’ll ever need. They’d had their us and downs over the years but they’ve always circled back to one another.  
  
Threepio looks around the ship, hand still on Artoo. "This technology seems unfamiliar."  
  
Kirk looks back at Threepio. "What do you mean 'unfair'?"  
  
"No, no, I said unfamiliar."  
  
"Well, it probably is. But, your technology can travel from galaxy to galaxy. Ours can't. And a lot of your technology is very different from ours."  
  
"Understandable," he says.  
  
"Most of us come from the same planet, so technology develops as any singular planet's evolution would," Kirk says with underlying pride in his voice.  
  
"You are incorrect, Captain.”  
  
"Oh, am I, Spock?"  
  
"Indeed. Most of 'us' are not from the same planet and if Vulcans did not introduce your kind to interstellar travelling stability technology, you would not be commanding this ship."  
  
"You said it yourself, Spock. Earth is the only home you have left. And what technology?"  
  
"That is hardly the attitude that Starfleet wishes for its officers to have. At the beginning of your space travelling program, your warp fields were not stable, even at warp two." Spock tilts his head in challenge.  
  
Artoo beeps something rude: [Typical meatbag...]  
  
Threepio agrees in binary, a soft chirp escaping his mouth: [Yes, but we mustn't be rude. He is a Captain of a large ship. We are droids.]  
  
[Droids who helped tear down the Empire.]  
  
Threepio sighed and once again spoke in Basic, "You do have a point, but still."  
  
Spock raises an eyebrow at the droids. "'Meatbag'?" Twice Spock has heard that term, now.  
  
Threepio regrets his comment slightly. He explains nervously, "Meatbag is a slang term sometimes used by droids to refer to organics. The term is generally considered offensive by most organics, and it is normally used as a means to insult them. "  
  
Luke raises an eyebrow, "I've never heard you say that, Threepio."  
  
Threepio responds, "It's usually Artoo who says it, Sir."  
  
Spock looks down. "I apologise."  
  
"Do not apologize, Artoo wasn't referring to you."  
  
"Interesting. Then, I agree with you, R2-D2." Spock says the last part quietly. The astromech beeps with delight.  
  
The crew and their guests reach the mess hall. "Do you guys want anything to eat?" Kirk says as he circles the large, white room. "We've got replicators that have even learnt to produce Vulcan food - for Mr. Spock over there."  
  
Spock raises an eyebrow. "I programmed them."  
  
"Well." He turns to the _Millennium Falcon_ gang. "We can program them to make anything you want. Oh, but watch out, the chicken is green."  
  
"Aurhrarrrrruh," Chewie says.  
  
Han Solo agrees, "we'd appreciate that."  
  
Luke shrugs, "Where I come from, milk is blue so..."  
  
Leia nods, "Thank you."  
  
Threepio stands next to Artoo awkwardly, "We'll pass."  
  
Kirk walks up to one of the replicators and demonstrates. "Computer, hamburger - cheese, beef, lettuce, tomato, ranch." A hamburger appears in the tray. "See? Easy as pie." Kirk smiles and looks at Leia, putting an arm out in the direction of the replicator. "Go ahead, Sweety," he says in a genuine attempt to keep flirting with her.  
  
"Computer, cup of water," Leia says happily. Why her tone is distinctly positive baffles Spock. The replicator complies and Leia grabs it, turns on her heel, and dumps the cup of water onto Kirk's head.  
  
The Doctor, Scotty, Nyota bend over themselves laughing - even Spock smiles slightly; Nyota notices. "That- Princess Leia, right?" she asks from his side.  
  
Han grins, "Yeah, that's Leia."  
  
Meanwhile, Luke goes up to the replicator and requests, "Computer, milk and cookies." He is genuinely surprised that the milk isn't blue.  
  
"That was beautiful, Princess Leia," Nyota remarks.  
  
Leia smiles. "My pleasure." Most of the _Millennium Falcon_ crew is eating now except for the two droids. Threepio asks curiously, "How does that work?"  
  
"The replicator?" Uhura inquires excited to have a discussion with the droid.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"I'm pretty sure it's like a three-dimensional printer. It prints the food. Apparently, two centuries ago, the food used to taste like cardboard."  
  
"Where does one get the materials?"  
  
"I'm not sure." She looks at Spock. "Commander?"  
  
Spock looks Nyota over. "It converts energy into matter. The energy for the ship is stored in the dilithium crystals. The replicator is also known as a bio-matter resequencer. It can replicate any food with the correct molecular structure programming."  
  
"Oh," Threepio says, watching his friends. "Are there any other droids here?"  
  
"No, there are not."  
  
"Oh. Okay."  
  
Nyota forks some salad into her mouth. "So, who is this 'Empire' you keep referring to?"  
  
Threepio stiffens and starts to spout out information, "The Galactic Empire (19 BBY–5 ABY), also known as the First Galactic Empire, the New Order, or simply the Empire, was the fascist galactic government that replaced the Galactic Republic in the aftermath of the Clone Wars and ushered galactic civilisation into a new age. Secretly ruled by Dark Lord of the Sith Darth Sidious - publicly known as Galactic Emperor Palpatine - the new regime rose to power with a groundswell of populist support, promising peace and stability from the destructive Clone Wars and capitalizing on anti-Jedi and anti-droid sentiment. The subsequent Age of the Empire would last only two decades in contrast to the centuries of the Republic Era, but not before the Jedi Order was systematically purged and almost eradicated, and the galaxy largely conquered."  
  
"Oh..." Uhura turns back to her food.  
  
"Who are 'Jedi'?" Spock asks. Upon realising that Nyota isn't feeling so good, he places a supportive hand on her knee underneath the table.  
  
"A Jedi was a member of the Jedi Order, an ancient order of protectors united by their ability to harness the power of the Force. Adhering to a doctrine that favoured the light side of the Force, the Jedi aspired to attain a state of inner tranquillity through calmness and meditation while avoiding emotions affiliated with the dark side of the Force, such as anger and hatred. Nevertheless, Jedi philosophy did not forbid a Jedi from acting in self-defence or in the defence of others. To that end, the weapon of a Jedi was the lightsaber, a blade composed of pure energy and different colours such as blue, green, purple or yellow. An example of a Jedi would be Master Luke." Luke waves. Han wants the droid to shut up.  
  
"Fascinating."  
  
"So, telekinesis, then?" Nyota perks up, evidently ignoring the comment about the Empire destroying Threepio's galaxy.  
  
"It's not telekinesis. It's... more," Luke says, "The Force is what gives a Jedi his power. It's an energy field created by all living things. It surrounds us and penetrates us. It binds the galaxy - or our galaxy - together." Threepio sits down and leans on Artoo. Spock remains perplexed at the droids’ behaviour.  
  
"Fascinating."  
  
"Uh-huh. In our galaxy, that might be like gravity and magnetic fields? If they were related?"  
  
Luke shakes his head, "No no, it's different to that. I don't know how else to explain it."  
  
"Oh." Spock watches as Nyota shuts herself up. She doesn't for long, though. "Can you demonstrate?"  
  
"What would you want me to do?"  
  
"Anything." Uhura smiles with excitement.  
  
"It's not a party trick," he says, as he uses the Force to move Kirk's meal all the way to the other side of the mess hall.  
  
Nyota claps and begins laughing. "He deserved that."  
  
Kirk grunts and stands up to retrieve his meal.  
  
All Spock says, yet again, is, "fascinating."  
  
"There's a lot more to it than that but yeah..." Luke taps mindlessly on the table.  
  
When Kirk sits back at the table, he asks, "so, what do you think of the ship?"  
  
"Large," Threepio says.  
  
Spock looks at the droid. "That is an accurate yet obvious observation."  
  
"How fast can it go?" asks Han.  
  
Spock speaks up. "The _Enterprise_ can, theoretically, reach speeds of up to warp factor nine point eight, though-"  
  
"Woah, it can?" the Doctor interrupts.  
  
"Indeed, Doctor. Its top speed is zero point seven three lightyears per hour." Spock addresses Han once again. "We are only authorised to travel at warp factor eight when travelling for ordinary or extraordinary periods of time."  
  
"I'm guessing you haven't achieved Hyperspeed," Han said, a bit proud of his ship's capabilities.  
  
"Hyperspeed?" Kirk echoes.  
  
"Sorry, I meant Hyperspace."  
  
"Hyperspace?" It is Spock that repeats it this time.  
  
"Hyperspace was an alternate dimension that could only be reached by travelling at or faster than the speed of light. Hyperdrives enabled starships to travel through hyperspace lanes across great distances, enabling travel and exploration throughout the galaxy," Threepio informs.  
  
Artoo beeps excitedly, [Summary: Fast as fuck.]  
  
Threepio nudges his counterpart, "Watch your language!"  
  
"We can travel at a speed well over two hundred and sixty thousand times that of light."  
  
Han nods, apparently not understanding a word of what Spock had just said.  
  
As the meals begin to be finished, the _Enterprise_ suddenly rocks sideways. Everyone’s empty plate shake off of the tables and the chairs vibrate underneath. "Spock, what was that?" the Captain asks, instantly on alert.


	3. Klingon

Threepio tenses at the movement of the ship. Once again, his cautiousness kicks in. “Oh no, what have we gotten ourselves into?" he asks nobody in particular.   
  
Over the intercom, an unfamiliar voice says, "Captain, we are being attacked. It looks like a Klingon warbird." Before Threepio is even aware that the Captain of the _Enterprise_ has stood up, he is gone.   
  
"Red alert. All decks on red alert," the droid hears him yell through the ship’s speakers. “Arm photon torpedoes. All crew at battle stations.”   
  
‘Battle stations?’  
  
Uhura and Spock share a fleeting glance before running after the Captain and encouraging the _Falcon_ crew along with them. McCoy turns in the opposite direction, Threepio is not certain where.  
  
"What do we do?!" the droid asks frantically.  
  
Spock looks their way when they enter the turbolift. "Please remain calm and refrain from handling any equipment unless instructed."  
  
They swiftly arrive at the bridge, where Kirk is already instructing Chekov and Sulu through the battle.  
  
Threepio clings to Artoo. "Oh, dear." He learns that the aggressors are attacking the engines and that knowledge does nothing to subside the growing stress that’s slowly overheating his gears.  
  
Artoo let out a loud beep: [FUCK!]   
  
Threepio is too stressed to reprimand him, but Leia speaks up. "Is there anything we can do?"  
  
With the main crew now busy yelling directions and observations to one another, two of the beta-shift officers direct the guests to some seats on the side of the bridge. "Relax," one of them says with uncertainty. ‘The irony,’ Threepio thinks.   
  
"Captain, their shields are at forty percent," Spock announces with an uncannily calm disposure. Threepio asks a question, "Who are the Klingon warbird and why are they attacking?" He’s still clinging to Artoo as he addresses the elephant in the room.   
  
When Spock finishes listing the facts about the attacking warbirds, he speaks to Threepio. "The Klingons are a part of the Klingon Empire and are a current enemy of the Federation." From beside him, Uhura began speaking to her console in Klingon.  
  
Threepio nods. Luke is still curious, he asks, "Why are they an enemy of the Federation?"  
  
"They do not wish to agree to the regulations, nor do they wish to be at peace with us. They are a warrior species."  
  
"I do not like the sound of that," Luke says. "How long has this conflict been going on for?"  
  
"I am uncertain," Spock admits. "As academy cadets, we were instructed to avoid them. The conflict began at least one hundred and fifty Earth years ago."  
  
"Though the Federation only ages one hundred years, Starfleet does not."  
  
Luke nods shortly, understanding that Spock is occupied.  
  
The ship rocks again and Spock braces himself. "Uhura, hail?" the Captain all but yells from his chair.  
  
"Sorry, Captain. I'm trying. Let me reroute the signal to their communications system and see if it is possible to hail them without them actually responding."   
  
"Huh?"   
  
Spock walks over to Kirk. "The Lieutenant is attempting to 'force' the Klingons into a hail through rerouting the transmission she is currently receiving from them."   
  
"Thank you, Spock," the woman in question grunts.   
  
"Indeed, Lieutenant." They share a brief smile before turning back to their respective duties.  
  
Artoo lets out a string of beeping: [Hey! Let me help! I've been through this shit countless times!]   
  
Threepio translates, "He wants to know if he can help." He turns to Artoo, "You might not be compatible with their technology, I don't want you in danger!" The thought of losing Artoo to a battle between unknown species does not sit well with him.   
  
[Danger is my middle name!]   
  
"Your middle name is hyphen!" the droid exclaims.   
  
"We are progressively gaining control of the situation. I must request that you refrain from interfering."   
  
‘Thank the maker!’ Threepio exclaims within his circuits.  
  
One of the Klingon ships retreats. He isn't sure if that is good or bad. In all of his cast experience, a ship turning around can mean many things. Sometimes they falsify their forfeit to get back at them later on when their shields are not up.   
  
"One appears to have surrendered, Cap-"   
  
Spock is interrupted by Uhura. "I have them on hail, Captain." Threepio sees Spock give the Vulcan equivalent of a glare to Uhura.   
  
The Captain begins, "I am James Kirk; Captain of the USS _Enterprise_ and diplomatic representative of the Federation."   
  
"You are in possession of our prisoners!" the universal translator says from the speakers. The Klingons are an odd-looking species. They have ridges on their forehead and they look awfully threatening. They’re bright orange too, which surprises Threepio.   
  
"Prisoners? What prisoners?" He asks even though he is uncertain if they can even hear him. Han mutters, "I have a bad feeling about this… "  
  
"Your prisoners?" Kirk echoes.   
  
"We captured them," an angry Klingon grumbles.   
  
"And abandoned them on a planet?"   
  
"Captain," Spock interjects. "It would not be wise to further provoke the Klingon Em-"   
  
"Well, what do you suggest? We give up our guests?" ‘At least Kirk has the right attitude.’  
  
"I was not finished, Captain. Perhaps if you simply negotiated with them. We are, after all, on a diplomatic mission." Threepio decides that he isn’t certain whether or not he really likes Spock, he seems to be against their safety and that will not do.  
  
"… Here we go again," Threepio sighs.   
  
Luke interjects, "I do not remember them capturing us."  
  
"What do you want?" Kirk asks the enemy ship   
  
"The prisoners." The Klingon stands tall on the viewing screen.  
  
"Aside from the prisoners,” Kirk clarifies as he begins to pace.   
  
"Your ship." The line cuts off and the firing continues.   
  
Kirk sighs. "You asked for this, Spock." The science officer raises his eyebrow and walks over to the _Falcon_ crew.  
  
Threepio whispers, "Tell them we're not here… "  
  
"We have the resources to defeat them in battle, though our main objective is to preserve all life."  
  
"Why do they want us as prisoners?" Luke asks.  
  
"As far as I can discern, they were the ships that attacked you. It is a common habit of the Klingons - to strip a ship of their resources and claim them as prisoners." Spock's lips tense very slightly, Threepio notes. "I presume that, had we not rescued you, they would have coerced you into pledging your allegiance with the Klingon Empire and assured you that they would 'help' you. Through two centuries of documentation, they have, only on two occasions, succeeded in 'helping' their captures."  
  
"They seem like dicks," Han says.   
  
Luke raises an eyebrow, "Help? What do they mean by that?"  
  
"They would have trained you to join the Klingon Empire. Or tortured and eventually killed you." Spock looks directly at Threepio. "Your coming from another galaxy would have most certainly earned you the latter."  
  
Threepio clutches onto Artoo tightly which earns a beep of protest from the shorter droid. Luke nods and asks, "I'm guessing they won't take no for an answer."  
  
Spock nods unnecessary. "Indeed. Though, in a confrontation such as this. We not only have more advanced resources, but our ship is more contemporary."   
  
"Arrrrheeearrrrgh Raaaurrrrgheeerg," Chewie says.   
  
Han nods, "My friend here suggests that we blast them."  
  
"We are currently in the process of doing so, but-"   
  
"Spock!" Threepio hears from across the bridge. He sees Uhura struggling with the technology. "Lieutenant?" Spock, again, raises an eyebrow.   
  
"I need your advanced phonology skills." He walks over.   
  
"You excelled in that class. You are extremely profi-"   
  
The Lieutenant huffs. "You know I love the praise-"   
  
"I was stating fa-"   
  
"Spock!" He silences. "I need to repair this and I would love a hand. We are… at war." This time, he doesn't rebut, only moves underneath the console to give help to her.  
  
Artoo rolls over to the two. He beeps a question. [Need any help?] He honestly just wants something to do.  
  
"Ah, yes, please," She sighs in relief. "Do you have something that can twist, like a drill, without wavering at all?" she asks the droid. Spock looks at her quizzically. Even Threepio is surprised that she understands Artoo already. "What, you said I should start learning, and you know I hate going into my lessons unprepared." Spock looks, once again, impressed by her abilities. ‘Surely they’re in a relationship,’ Threepio concludes.  
  
Artoo extends one of his many mechanical arms that has a drill on the end of the appendage. He chirps again. [What do you need to drill?]  
  
Nyota looks at Spock. "'01100100 01110010 01101001 01101100 01101100' is drill?"   
  
"Indeed."  
  
Artoo beeps in surprise. [Impressive.]  
  
She points to a spot underneath the console. "I need a hole about five centimetres deep and another hole… ” She points. “About fifteen."   
  
He beeps in acknowledgement and begins drilling. He completes the first task in seven seconds and the second task in twelve seconds.  
  
[Thank you.] Uhura tries in binary.  
  
[You're welcome. I can understand basic though.] He beeps.  
  
"'Basic' is Galactic Basic?" Nyota glances at Spock. "The main language in your galaxy?"  
  
He beeps again in affirmation.  
  
Spock allows himself to smile slightly. "Oh, Spohkh," She says when she finally notices - which Threepio notes is longer than would’ve been expected. The way she says his name is very slightly different. A very slight, green tint comes over the half-Vulcan’s cheeks. "Nyota, we are on duty." He looks her way while still lying on the floor under the console. "No one can see us, Spohkh." ‘Except for the droids,’ Threepio thinks.   
  
Artoo beeps as a way of letting them know that he is still there.  
  
"Very well." He looks at the Lieutenant. "We must proceed."  
  
They continue repairing the console. "Spock!" It's Kirk who yells.   
  
"Captain?"   
  
"They're forfeiting!" Spock is now bent underneath the console at a very unflattering angle.  
  
"That is fortunate,” he says and Artoo beeps in relief.  
  
The chaos aboard the _Enterprise_ slows and Spock and Uhura remain the only two not at their respective stations as they are still busy repairing the console.  
  
"I think we've earned a little shore leave - as much as that is possible on an uninhabited planet. Don't you think, Bones?" Kirk asks, moving to the turbolift.   
  
"Certainly, Jim. Shore leave."   
  
"Perfect. So, then, Spock, you hate shore lea-"   
  
"Captain. Now is har-" Spock begins.  
  
Kirk interrupts Spock's interruption. "You'll prepare a team to repair Captain Solo's ship."   
  
Spock nods, apparently satisfied. "Captain."   
  
Threepio hugs Artoo after he returns.   
  
"Shore leave?" Leia asks.  
  
"We get a break," McCoy says, almost happily.  
  
"Are you sure we're safe from the Klingons?" Threepio asks.  
  
"As a warrior species, they will likely be back. But, we are so far away from Klingon space, that it's also likely to be over a week until they get back." Kirk glances at Spock and Uhura who are still repairing the console. "Hopefully, Spock and Scotty, and probably Uhura too, and their team, will have finished repairing your ship by then."  
  
"Is there anything I can do to help?" Threepio asks.  
  
Threepio faintly hears Spock whisper to Nyota, "would you be agreeable to sacrificing your shore leave to assist me with the repairs?" The man stands straight and approaches the guests. "C-3PO, I would greatly appreciate your assistance on the repairs." Spock raises his voice ever so slightly.   
  
Threepio turns to Spock. "Yes, I suppose I could help. Right away, Sir." Threepio and the rest of the group walk to Spock.  
  
Spock stands up. "I was referring to the repairs on your ship. Your familiarity with the ship will be of great assistance. They will commence in one hour. Lieutenant Uhura and I are able to repair this console by ourselves." Spock lowers himself again. "I will see you on the surface in one hour," he says as if he were dismissing Cadets.  
  
Threepio nods. "Come along, Artoo, we have work to do." He actually has no idea where he is going but he is too nervous to ask.  
  
***  
  
With everyone now off the bridge, Spock glances at Nyota and where she smiles, he smirks - or half-smiles. Every couple of minutes, at Nyota's insistence, they share a brief kiss as they work. When they finish repairing the communications console, Spock helps Nyota up. "You are still willing to help me?" he asks when she has no objection to walking toward the transporter with him. "Have you gotten a team together?" she asks, not actually answering the question. "Indeed. I had already notified the essential personnel prior to the Captain's request."   
  
"You are never unprepared, are you?"   
  
"Surely, by now, you are aware of that fact, Nyota." He had, in one instance, before, not been prepared. Not prepared for his mother's death. Nor the destruction of his planet. He does not mention that, though. Only walks beside her, bumping shoulders and sharing glances. The First Officer and his appointed partner, Uhura, arrive at the crash site of _Millennium Falcon_ precisely one hour later.  
  
Most of the crew are already there, save the droids. ‘Curious,’ Spock thinks. He would’ve assumed that the droids would be precisely on time. They somehow find themselves lost on the ship, though, and when they both arrive, it is fifteen minutes later than the rest of the crew. "I am so terribly sorry we are late, someone got us lost!" That someone is Threepio, but he'll never admit it.  
  
Spock nods for lack of anything to respond. He presents the assigned _Enterprise_ crew and the _Falcon_ crew his findings and the procedure for the repairs. "If we remain on schedule, they will be complete in three days,” he concludes.  
  
Threepio nods and gets right to work, followed by Artoo. Spock, Uhura, and the engineering team work together with the _Falcon_ crew. Threepio and Spock work on the circuitry of the ship, and Threepio has a difficult time because he is metal; he conducts electricity. Artoo beeps and pushes him out of the way so he can work on it instead.  
  
The JOn system's star begins to set over the planet's horizon and Spock announces to everyone that they are free to retire for the evening. He decides to sit down on a rock beside the fallen ship. Everyone stops working except Artoo and Threepio because as droids, they probably do not understand the need for a break. Despite everyone else’s departing for the _Enterprise_ and their respective cabins, Spock remains seated on the rock.  
  
From not far behind him, Spock hears Artoo beep. [It's alright, Threeps, take a break.] And not moments later, Threepio plugs himself in and sits on the rock.  
  
He glances at Threepio when he sits down, but does not say anything at the beginning. He sits, ramrod-straight, with his hands, laid gently upon his thighs. He takes the moment to feel and to order his emotions in his mind. When he is ready, he regards Threepio more fully. "C-3PO."  
  
Threepio straightens a bit when his name is called. He turns his head towards Spock, acknowledging him. "Commander Spock," he greets.  
  
Spock looks into the distance. "When we are off duty, it is customary to address me as Mr. Spock."  
  
Threepio nods, "Of course, Mr. Spock. Please forgive me."  
  
"It is of no consequence."  
  
"Oh alright," He says. He fiddles with the charging cord attached to him. "How are you, Sir?"  
  
Spock looks squarely at the droid, an eyebrow raised. "I am well." He looks down and begins to speak faster. "While I am somewhat certain that this may very well not apply to you, as you are a droid, it is socially acceptable to respond in a likewise manner to that the question upon answering. How are you?"  
  
Threepio tilts his head. He looks surprised that Spock treats him with some basic respect. "I am trying to keep my emotions level due to today's events. I am functional yet recharging at the moment."  
  
Spock is partially surprised; it's a very subtle reaction but it's there nonetheless. "You experience emotions?" It is not a question as much as it is a statement of fact or observation, but he asks it regardless.   
  
The droid nods, "Whether that is a good or bad thing, I have yet to decide."  
  
"In my culture, we are trained from birth to repress emotion and embrace logic. Emotions are illogical."   
  
"I agree, but no matter how much logic I apply, the emotions still affect me."  
  
Spock intertwines his fingers. "I have excessive experience in the situation to which you are referring. If I may ask, why do you have emotions?"  
  
Threepio tilts his head. "I do not know why… It must be something to do with my programming."  
  
Spock raises an eyebrow. "You do not have access to your own code?"  
  
"Oh no, that would be far too… What's the thing that organics say? Ah yes, they don't want us to get 'ideas.'"  
  
Spock nods. "Indeed. I have read various texts from the early development of artificial intelligence and autonomous technology on Earth. Where sixteen of them expressed… anticipation for further technological advances, numerous were to suggest that it was dangerous and demonstrated an excessive amount of fear through their language."   
  
Threepio looks down at his lap. He is at a loss for what to say. He checks his battery percentage.  
  
Spock realises he's said the wrong thing and wishes that Nyota were here to relieve the cultural tension. ‘She has a way with words,’ he thinks. He must tell her that; she enjoys it when he acknowledges her talents. "I apologise. I was simply stating an observation."   
  
"No need to apologize, Sir, there is never a need to apologize to a droid," Threepio says.  
  
Spock does not nod. "That is immaterial. It is always logical to apologise to another when a wrong has been committed. To neglect to do so may result in unpredictable outcomes."  
  
Threepio tilts his head again, "I suppose that is logical, yet droids never are considered as equal in the minds of many organics I have met. An exception would be my friends."  
  
Spock looks at Threepio. "What is your rank?"  
  
"Rank?"  
  
"Rank," Spock confirms. "I am a Commander. My Captain is a… Captain." He pauses realising how odd - and almost illogical - his statement is. "Captain Solo is also."   
  
"I do not have a rank, Sir."  
  
Spock almost says 'oh', though he suppresses the urge.  
  
Threepio nods. "Have you met any other droids before or are we the first that you have met?"  
  
"You are the first that I have met in person," he resigns to the admission.   
  
"Well, I hope that I am making a good first impression."  
  
"To develop an opinion or make a judgment based on a first impression is entirely illogical." Spock looks down. "Though, I suppose, if it satisfies your emotions, it would not be illogical to say that you are not a 'disappointment'."  
  
Threepio lights up at that, he does not have the capacity to make facial expressions, but he surely looks as though he appreciates the statements. "Thank you, Sir. I also must say that your company is appreciated."  
  
Spock does his almost-smile. "Where I am completely aware that to appreciate one's company is illogical, I both understand and have often experienced the sentiment."  
  
Spock sees a figure approach from the distance and does a double-take before relaxing. It is Nyota. When she stops, she studies the droid. "It took me years to get that mini smile out of him. How'd you do it in one day?" Spock thinks that she must be offended but then notes the playfulness in her tone and the genuine smile on her face and relaxes.   
  
Threepio tilts his head in curiosity, "I am not sure. Organic life still seems to baffle me."  
  
Neither Spock nor Nyota are aware that Artoo had witnessed them kiss on board the ship, so as he approaches, they continue to practice their somewhat precarious discretion. "He's a difficult one to understand. He's a stickler for the rules and applies logic to literally everything."   
  
Threepio nods. "I have noticed that. He does seem easier to understand than most organics."  
  
Spock hears a beep as Artoo rolls towards them. [Hey! Batteries are low!]   
  
Threepio readies a second, separate cord for Artoo. He plugs the cord into Artoo to charge. He mutters something to Artoo. "Later… "  
  
Spock regards Nyota as she stands as a silhouette in the picturesque image of a sunset. ‘She looks beautiful,’ he decides - gorgeous. "Nyota, you are incorrect. I do not apply logic to 'literally' everything. I would have presumed that a linguist such as yourself would have used that word in its exact meaning."  
  
"Name one thing that you do that isn't logical," she challenges.   
  
He twists his head to the side, raises an eyebrow, and smirks. "Surely, Nyota, you should not require my assistance to name that in which I have acted illogically." Nyota quickly realises what he is saying - that his decision to remain in Starfleet and his decision to be with her were both driven by emotion not logic. Spock is glad that he does not have to voice it.   
  
Nyota frowns. "This- No. That is not illogical."   
  
"Where that is arguably correct, it is certainly not logical. You are aware that both were emotional decisions; perhaps with some logic 'in their favour' - as you would say." He looks at her and they share a sweet moment of challenge and contentment.   
  
Then she smiles broadly at him. "Of course it was logical."   
  
Artoo whisper-beeps to Threepio. [They're together.]   
  
Threepio let out a soft, "Oh."  
  
Spock hears what Artoo says, his Vulcan hearing adeptly attuned to quiet noises. He turns to Nyota and switches to Vulcan, " _I believe they are aware of our relationship, Ashayam._ "   
  
Nyota smiles at the pet name and responds, also in Vulcan, " _what makes you think that?_ "   
  
"Nyota, our indiscretion does not go unnoticed," he says, switching to Standard and nodding at Artoo.   
  
Threepio looks at Artoo then looks at Spock and Nyota and raises his hands in alarm. "We promise we won't tell anyone else, I swear on my circuits!"   
  
Artoo knows what Threepio is fearing. [They won't wipe your memory… Don't short yourself out.]  
  
Nyota smiles, much like his mother used to. "As Spock would say: it is of no consequence." She imitates him. "It's just a matter of knowing how to behave and around who."   
  
"It would be illogical to erase your memory over such a menia-" He is interrupted by Nyota placing a hand on his shoulder and leaning up to kiss his cheek. He stiffens immediately. She runs a hand over his ear and he relaxes quickly. He stops himself before he purrs, though. It would not be appropriate.  
  
Threepio tilts his head in curiosity. He hasn't really seen that many organic relationships outside of Han and Leia.  
  
Seeing that the droids are not opposed, he faces Nyota and kisses her properly. He actually embraces her - something he rarely does outside of their private quarters. "There was an instance not long ago which prompted me to wish to tell you that you are a talented xenolinguist," he whispers in Vulcan. Nyota begins laughing. He truly appreciates her laugh - it is so sweet and musical in its tonality.   
  
"What instance was that?" He parts from their embrace and holds out two fingers in order to initiate the ozh'esta. "I will enlighten you tonight. I still intend to educate you in binary, despite your insistence to begin without my assistance."  
  
Spock looks at Threepio, but speaks to Nyota when he says, "Were you aware that droids were not allowed to access their own code?" He says this by way of initiating a conversation.  
  
Artoo chirps. [I can access his code. Can't make any major alterations though.]  
  
Nyota looks at the sky for a long moment and Spock gets worried. "Nyota, are you-"   
  
She covers his mouth with her hand as she thinks. "That second last word… altercations?" she asks, still not fluent in Artoo's language.  
  
Threepio corrects her. "Alterations."  
  
"Ah… " Spock is certain that, despite her calm disposition, she is surely chastising herself for getting it incorrect.  
  
Threepio rests his head on Artoo. "Binary is a difficult language for organics to learn. I think you are learning it quite quickly."  
  
Spock half-smiles. "She is unparalleled in xenolinguistics." He can not hide the pride in his voice.   
  
As an exercise, Spock assumes, she repeats Threepio's sentence in binary. [Binary is a difficult language for organics to learn. I think you are learning it quite quickly.] Spock simply stares at her. "Why can you not alter your own code?" she asks, proud of herself at having translated the sentence correctly.  
  
Threepio lifted his head in surprise. It's odd to hear an organic speak in binary. "It is against protocol for a droid to alter their own programming," he explains.  
  
"Fascinating," Nyota says, unintentionally mimicking Spock perfectly.   
  
Threepio nods. He bumps Artoo's dome with his faceplate, one might say he was trying to replicate a kiss.  
  
Nyota steps onto the rock Spock was previously sitting on and places a kiss on the top of his head. He rewards her with a raised eyebrow and, "Nyota, it is highly illogical to endanger one's own life to perform an action so unbearably illogical."   
  
She laughs and hugs him awkwardly from the rock. "Well, there's only so many reasons why this would be so illogical to you. Perhaps… you do not like that I am taller than you for once. Or maybe it's because you secretly enjoyed it and are not willing to admit it. Possibly… it's because you're embarrassed that you're less affectionate than droids. Or a combination of all three." She smiles and swings her legs around him in a fashion known as a 'piggyback'.   
  
Threepio tilts his head again, "I do not know what they are doing, Artoo."   
  
Artoo beeps in response: [Flirting. They are flirting.]  
  
Nyota laughs elegantly but refuses to get off Spock. "He's my horse, now," Nyota jokes. "Say 'nae', Spock." Instead of doing so, he grabs her from behind him and quickly but gently swings her around to face him.   
  
He looks at her, emotion - happiness - evident in his eyes, though, when he speaks, one would never know from his level tone. "Now, I believe you are my baby - to use your metaphor, Nyota." He half-smiles. "Say 'goo-goo ga-ga'."   
  
Nyota's laugh, smile, and happiness brighten his day and he feels himself struggling to keep his emotions at bay. "Whoever said you weren't a comic, Spock."  
  
Ignoring her, albeit not rudely, he looks at the droids. "I am not completely familiar with the term 'flirting'. What is its definition?"   
  
"Flirting or coquetry is a social behaviour involving spoken or written communication, as well as body language, by one person to another, either to suggest interest in a deeper relationship with the other person, or if done playfully, for amusement," Threepio recites.  
  
"Fascinating," Spock responds and allows Nyota to snuggle into his embrace. He whispers to her, "If you are amenable, would you flirt more often?" Nyota's laugh resonates through his body. She kisses his neck. "Certainly."   
  
Threepio averts his gaze and looks at Artoo. He whispers, "I am uncertain what to do in this situation."   
  
Artoo chirps: [Flirt with me.]   
  
"No," Threepio objects, "It isn't proper… "  
  
Spock speaks up. "I am not opposed. If it is pleasing, it stands to reason, at this moment, that it is not improper."  
  
"But we're droids… and two droids flirting… that's not in the protocol… And we both have masculine programming… "  
  
Nyota pulls back a little and taps Spock's shoulder repeatedly, but does not hurt him. "Turn me around, Spock," she says playfully, still tapping his shoulder. He raises an eyebrow but obeys nonetheless. "Hey, Threepio," she says to get his attention. "It's fine. I've seen loads of guys flirt with guys. And… " She smiles. "Lieutenant Sulu is married to Ensign Sulu. They're both males. They have an adopted daughter, too."  
  
Threepio tilts his head, "Really?"  
  
"Oh, yeah. They're the sweetest couple." She waves her arm at them rather uncoordinatedly. "It's fun."   
  
Artoo turns to Threepio and beeps: [Hear that? You have no more excuses, Goldy!]   
  
Threepio puts his hands on his hips. "It's still not proper… "   
  
[You know you love me.]   
  
"I know no such thing, you glorified trashcan." After much insistent beeping from Artoo, Threepio gives in, "Fine, I love you. I love you. You're annoying and reckless and brave and clever. I can't stand it, yet I can't stop my feelings for you." Artoo chirps happily.  
  
"Isn't that sweet, Spock," Nyota asks and pulls back to place her hands on the sides of Spock's face. "As 'sweet' is an adjective applied to taste, I fail to understand your question. Furthermore, I did not witness the incident. You insisted I turn around," he reminds her. "Sweet also means pleasing, in general," she mumbles before kissing him happily.   
  
Threepio realizes that he is fully charged. "As much as I enjoy this, Artoo and I should get back to work." He unplugs himself and then Artoo.  
  
"Very well," Spock says, trying to straighten up - Nyota is hindering his ability to do so. "Do you wish for me to carry you to my quarters," he asks, almost teasingly. When she nods, he says, "Very well."   
  
"Farewell," he says to the droids, holding his hand in the ta'al. "I will see you and your crew here tomorrow at oh-eight hundred."   
  
Threepio nods, "Come along, Artoo, we have work to do."  
  
*** As promised, Spock carries Nyota back to his cabin. And, although it is nearing midnight, he is careful to make sure no-one sees them. She bounces in his arms on occasion, but he has no trouble holding her still. When they finally do reach his quarters, he places her squarely on the bed. “What do you want to teach me about binary?” she asks as she giggles helplessly on his too-thin mattress.   
  
“You appear to already be sufficiently adept at understanding the language.” He pulls out a chair from under a small desk. ‘Being a first officer has its perks,’ Spock decides as he glances around the large room. “I believe all you require is more practice, and possibly a stronger short term memory,” he suggests to her.   
  
“Memory?” She sits up and raises her hand to her mouth in mock-offence. “You of all people should know that my memory is quite ‘sufficiently adept’.” Spock thinks back to a time when he’d previously criticised her memory. They weren’t together then - weren’t even friends. That being said, it would be wrong to assume that they were truly friends before they embarked on the rollercoaster that is their present romantic experience. They hated each other. Well, Spock is certain that Nyota hated him. She overheard her complain to Gaila six hundred and ninety-four times. If it were not for Gaila’s eventual demise during the destruction of the USS _Farragut_ , Spock is certain that the complaints would have continued.   
  
Nyota was only seventeen at the time. She had not been participating fully in his lecture and he had called her out on it. He asked her to recite the passage he, himself, had just spoken. Spock remembers that, despite only having a half-mind on the class, she was able to recite the entire passage, in a foreign language she was not fluent in, with only one mistake. While she had rendered him uncommonly impressed, he had still reprimanded her for it and instructed her to meet him after class.   
  
“I was not aware of your… ability at that time. You later proved to me that your talents are not limited to a mere several languages, but eighty-three percent of Federation languages,” he praises. “Your memory is, indeed, impressive, Nyota.”   
  
Although she was teasing him, she lets it drop. Instead, she moves forward and straddles his lap on the chair. “Come here, Spohkh.”  
  
He resists almost unwillingly and says, “you do not wish to study?”  
  
“I thought my memory was impressive, Spock?”  
  
“It is, though that does not preclude you from requiring practice to ensure fluency.” When he raises his eyebrow, she flattens it with her thumb and pulls him into a kiss.   
  
“Maybe there’s something else that we could practice instead,” she mumbles against his lips.  
  
“I concur. And, although I do not believe that we require practice, that does not necessarily-” She cuts him off and pulls him onto the bed behind.   
  
“Later, Spock. We can talk later.”


	4. Emotion

The next morning, when Spock meets his selected crew at the Millennium Falcon crash site, Bones offers to help. They begin their work promptly, with Spock having explained the plan the previous day - he only quickly briefs McCoy. Han, Leia, Luke, and Chewie slept in guest quarters on the Enterprise and were very refreshed.  
  
Threepio and Artoo were working all night and are still up, as their batteries were recharged a day earlier. Threepio tilts his head as he sees Spock. "Good day, Sir! Do you need any assistance?"  
  
Not one to illogically refuse aid when it's needed, Spock responds in the affirmative and they get onto work together. Spock points out particular areas and Threepio helps him.  
  
An hour or so later, McCoy grumbles. "Are you well, Doctor?" Spock asks, aware that humans have lesser attention spans and abilities.  
  
"I'm fine," he grunts. Spock watches as he kicks a piece of equipment. "Them blasted pieces of wired metallic junk decided to wreck this turmoil into discombobulated shambles last night!"  
  
Threepio tilts his head. "I… um… I beg your pardon, Doctor?"  
  
Spock stands straighter. "Lieutenant Commander McCoy, that was out of line."   
  
"Aye, Sir. I'm sorry, Commander, I didn't realise it was here."  
  
Threepio tilts his head further. He thinks and then shakes his head. Must be talking about something else. He continues to help Spock.  
  
Spock does not resume his work. "Doctor, if you are referring to C-3PO and R2-D2, under Regulation 5.3, Section C, Subsection D of diplomatic disputes and disagreements, I order you to apologise."  
  
Threepio tenses up. Now, he realizes. He tries to continue working but it seems he is more clumsy when he is nervous.  
  
The Doctor sighs. "Yes, Commander." He turns to the droid. "I'm sorry. It wasn't personal; I say those sorts of things about everyone." He turns around and mumbles under his breath, "bowl-cut democrat."  
  
Spock regards him and raises an eyebrow. "Lieutenant Commander, remove yourself from this vicinity or I will do so myself."  
  
Threepio continues working, not looking at anyone.  
  
The Doctor waddles out and Spock only just hears him mumble another insult, though does not comment on it.  
  
Threepio decides not to attempt to decipher any of the events that just went down. Instead, he just continues working. He is less efficient than usual, but he hardly acknowledges it.  
  
Spock continues work, noticing - though not mentioning - Threepio's lowered efficiency.   
  
Threepio drops a wrench. He mutters something about, "It's a wonder that they haven't sold me for scrap..." And picks it back up. He struggles to follow simple instructions and his reaction time has increased greatly.  
  
Spock stops and looks at Threepio. "C-3PO, although it is illogical to do so and, likely, highly unnecessary, also, if you would allow me to apologise sincerely on behalf of my colleague. He was truthful when he said, 'I say those sorts of things about everyone'."  
  
"His behavior is not your fault, Sir, I should be used to it by now."  
  
"I am aware," Spock says as he resumes working. "It was simply a matter of courtesy." Spock glances at the droid. "Used to it?"  
  
The droid nods. "That is what I said, yes."  
  
"I am aware that that is what you said, I was simply inquiring as to its meaning or implications. I do not wish to infer incorrectly."  
  
"I should be used to hostile treatment and rude words, Sir," Threepio clarifies. He picks up a screwdriver.  
  
"May I inquire as to why? You are an adequate droid."  
  
Partly frustrated, the droid elaborates, "I am a droid. Many organics do not like droids. We're machines. Property. And shall be treated as such. It doesn't matter to them if we can feel emotional or physical pain. We are bought and sold. Memory wipes and reprogramming. Scrapped for parts. Adequate or not, I am a machine." The golden droid sighs sourly.  
  
"Surely, it is not necessary for you to feel emotion?"  
  
"I know it is not necessary, but I can not stop it."  
  
Spock halts. "Why not?"  
  
Threepio understands that Spock is simply curious and, surely, he is trying to help. It's difficult, though, to open up. Even after years of obedience, he can count those who have displayed genuine concern for him on one hand. "I do not know."  
  
"If it would increase your productivity and efficiency, I should offer to educate you on Vulcan meditation techniques. I would be curious if they should… work on a droid."  
  
"I have a theory on why droids feel. To instill fear. Obedience. Or the maker was just cruel," he shakes his head. "Vulcan meditation?"  
  
Spock nods. "Indeed. Our race endeavours to repress emotion so it may not affect our decisions."  
  
"That sounds… familiar."  
  
Spock raises an eyebrow by way of asking Threepio to explain.  
  
"I don't quite remember," Threepio admits. His memory wipe still finds ways to inconvenience him.  
  
"Interesting," Spock mumbles before turning back to work.  
  
"I guess so," Threepio says. "Apologies, my memory isn't what it used to be." He taps on his head with a clunk as he says it.  
  
***  
  
They continue to work in silence until Spock has an interesting thought. "What is your opinion on emotion?" he asks curiously.  
  
"I enjoy the positive ones. The negative ones can be overwhelming. Why do you ask, Sir?"  
  
"I was merely curious," he responds. "How does one identify positive emotions if negative emotions are not present?"  
  
"I… do not know."  
  
Spock straightens very slightly. "Positive emotions are not overwhelming?" Spock questions, realising how much Threepio’s understanding contradicts with his personal experience.  
  
"Well… They are overwhelming… But in a different sense. I do not know. I don't really talk about my emotions because when I do, they tell me to shut up or they threaten to reprogram me because droids aren't supposed to have emotions."  
  
"I remain uncertain as to the reasons for your emotions. It is illogical."  
  
"Example. Negative emotion: Someone says something hostile to me. My emotion is fear because I am afraid they will damage me. Example. Positive emotion: Someone told me that I did a good job. I am happy that I fulfilled my purpose adequately."  
  
"Fascinating," Spock remarks. "In my experience, my positive emotions have affected my actions three point eight eight times more than my negative emotions." He quickly adds, "this is despite my attempts to repress these emotions." He looks down, unwilling to show his disappointment and embarrassment with himself.  
  
Threepio nods, clearly unsure what to say at this moment.  
  
Artoo rolls in and beeps: [I heard that one guy saying shit about you. Should I zap him?]  
  
"You may not," Spock interjects before Threepio can respond.   
  
Threepio nods. "Yes, do not do that, Artoo." Artoo beeps, disappointed.  
  
Spock suppresses a sigh. "R2-D2, if it would not be an inconvenience, may you assist C-3PO and I with this assembly?" He gestures to a pile of parts on the floor.  
  
[Sure thing.] The small droid chirps and assists the two with the assembly.   
  
Threepio turns to Spock, "Apologies, he can be a bit eccentric."   
  
"It is of no consequence." He looks at Artoo. "What is your opinion on emotion?"  
  
Artoo swivels his dome to face Spock. He beeps: [They're just there.] He swivels his dome back around to face his work.  
  
"Indeed," Spock agrees. It's an odd response to provide, but awfully accurate.  
  
When he and Threepio complete the repairs, he promptly leaves the room to address the entire repair crew. They meet just outside the Falcon, on the dusty surface of the planet. "You have one hour for lunch. The Captain has assured me that the mess hall is open."  
  
Threepio does not eat lunch because he is obviously a robot, so he continues working.  
  
Spock walks up beside Threepio and assists him. The silence of the ship calms them both as they relax into a steady routine.  
  
Threepio turns his head to Spock. "Pardon me, Sir, but aren't organics such as yourself supposed to eat?"  
  
"I am Vulcan. I do not require as much sustenance or rest as humans," Spock responds flatly, looking at Threepio.  
  
"…If you say so, Sir, yet I heard that consumption of sustenance is usually quite enjoyable."  
  
Spock continues to work. "It is illogical to eat for the purpose of enjoyment."  
  
"How would I know? I do not eat."  
  
"You would know because I told you." Spock does not worry that Threepio will take offence.  
  
"Okay."  
  
Spock hears footsteps approaching them, stops working and Threepio swivels his head to look at the source of the noise.  
  
Nyota appears through the doorway holding two meals. "You didn't come up to the ship, Spock."   
  
"I do not-" he begins, trying to articulate that he is not hungry.   
  
"You will be," Nyota interrupts, understanding. She presses the plate against his chest. "Eat." She hands him a pair of utensils.  
  
Threepio is confused. "You said that you do not require as much sustenance or rest as humans."  
  
"I do not," Spock agrees. "Though, I have found, when Lieutenant Uhura forms an opinion, it is difficult to alter it. The occasional illogical sacrifice does not outweigh the… happiness that I have from being with her romantically."   
  
She kisses him briefly on the lips. "Good boy." Spock raises an eyebrow in response.  
  
Threepio does not understand, so he continues working as the couple sit down and begin eating. "Are your repairs progressing as planned?" he asks Nyota.   
  
She smirks. "I thought Vulcans didn't speak while they ate."   
  
"Generally, they do not. However, I am aware that you enjoy doing so." He half-smiles as he forks another lettuce leaf into his mouth.  
  
Threepio looks at them and then sits down on the floor. He leans on Artoo.  
  
Nyota looks the half-Vulcan over closely. "The repairs are going well, Spock. I've nearly finished the section that I've been assigned." Before Spock responds, she looks at the droids. "How about you two flirting boys? I heard McCoy storming out of here ranting and throwing insults like a bomb about to blow."  
  
"Flirting boys?" Threepio asked, sort of embarrassed. "Anyway… what was he saying?"  
  
Nyota laughs. "Nothing bad, just typical Bones comments - really good insults, mind you."  
  
Threepio continues working silently.  
  
"I believe that Lieutenant Uhura was trying to convey the message that McCoy had not intended to offend us. Why are you upset?"  
  
Artoo chirps: [He's sensitive.]  
  
Spock speaks directly to Threepio. "Your logic cannot suppress unprecedented emotions? Reasoning does not repress them?"  
  
Artoo beeps: [I tried reason for years. It just doesn't mix with him.]  
  
Spock looks into his lap. "Vulcans feel emotion deeply - more deeply than humans. We are a race that, still, is driven by primal instinct." Nyota's mouth widens. "Before the Age of Surak, we were destined to extinction. Our clans were often at war, alliances fell with ease, and even our… " He pauses. "Even our mating rituals involved fights to the death." When Nyota puts her hand on his knee, he stares at it for a moment. Then stands up and begins to pace. "It was a matter of survival that we changed our ways. Our race divided into two. Vulcans adopted logic where the Romulans did not. We became civilised and logical. So much so, that many Vulcans attempted to purge all emotion. At the beginning, this was unsuccessful. Numerous Vulcans died through starvation, depression. Others decided to simply follow the teachings of Surak. These teachings allow us to feel our emotions, analyse them, and suppress them so that they do not control our actions. It is simply illogical to wish to feel emotion."  
  
Threepio looks at him. "I- I'm sorry."  
  
Spock looks up. "I have told you this in utmost confidence. We do not normally speak of our race with outsiders."  
  
"I promise I will not tell anyone, Sir."  
  
Spock nods, but remains standing. He does not move for another three minutes.  
  
"Are you alright, Sir?"  
  
"He's meditating," Nyota says. It is not common to see someone stand so still. "If you were curious as to how much emotion Vulcans express, you can consider that an emotional outburst."  
  
"Is there anything I can do to help?"  
  
"Probably not." She sighs. "He really doesn't tell anyone about his culture. It's funny to think that what he just told you is barely the tip of the iceberg."  
  
Spock wakes from his meditation. "I apologise," he says before going to sit beside Nyota again.  
  
"No need to apologize, Sir!" Threepio is many times on the receiving end of an organic's emotional outburst and the droid was surprised that Spock could control his emotions so well.  
  
Spock grabs Nyota's hand and places it back on his knee. "I was apologising to myself, as much as I was to you."  
  
Threepio nods and turns back to his work. He wishes to take a break. His eyes flicker due to stress. He upset Spock. He has been kind to him and Spock trusts the droid and treats Threepio as an equal. And Threepio somehow caused his new friend distress. Oh this is terrible. Threepio's thoughts hurried spiral into a bottomless well of worry. Thoughts pound loudly in the droid's head. Yet, he continues working.  
  
Being the talented communications officer that Uhura is, she notices Threepio internal conflict. "C-3PO, don't worry. He wasn't saying anything against you. I'll admit, he is a little too frank at times."  
  
Artoo chirps: [I thought his name was Spock?] The bad joke worked and Threepio sighed, now paying attention to how stupid the joke was.  
  
Spock looks up at the small droid, confused. "My name is Spohkh."  
  
Threepio explains, "Frank can be a common name and Ms. Uhura said that you could be frank at times, so Artoo made a terrible attempt at humor."  
  
"I see," Spock almost mumbles, his voice is so quiet. To respond to an illogical explanation with the expression 'I see' is a trait that he acquired from his mother. "Nyota was correct in her explanation. I am not upset. It is difficult for me to share personal information. Nyota is one of the only outsiders to mostly understand our culture. My mother was too… " It is one of the rare moments where Spock trails off and Nyota presses her fingers to his. Not four years on, it was still too soon. His expression is neutral, almost too emotionless. But the link shared between the pair as they allow their emotions to flow freely, blossoming with numerous colours and thoughts. "My mother passed during the destruction of my home planet."  
  
"I am sorry for your loss," the droid says. He isn't aware, but he has dealt with loss like that before. He just can't remember. The droid sits there, not knowing what to say.  
  
"It is illogical to apologise for that which was not your doing, nor under your control."  
  
Threepio nods.  
  
"It is customary to say such after hearing news that someone lost someone close to them." Threepio is on edge. Spock is sharing his life story and Threepio can't remember the protocol for this. Anxiety courses throughout his circuits.  
  
Spock leans towards Nyota ever so slightly - only someone really observant would notice. "I am aware," he responds. Spock looks up and changes the topic. "How often do you recharge?" he asks for a lack of anything else to discuss. He is aware that one should make small talk. He is also curious about the droids.  
  
Threepio appreciates the change of subject. "My battery lasts 24 to 72 Standard hours regularly." "That is an excessive margin," Spock notes, letting Nyota's head rest upon his shoulder. "It depends on the tasks I do and somewhat on my emotional health. My battery life can be conserved if I power off, similar to sleep." "Fascinating." Nyota looks at Artoo. "What about you?" Artoo beeped simply: [Longer than Threepio's.] "Why?" Spock asks. "He is an astromech. He is built to do difficult jobs. It is logical for him to have a longer battery life." "Indeed," Spock agrees. "It is logical. Perhaps that is why he is unable to communicate in Standard." "He uses the language of binary to interface with computers and ships," Threepio informs, "His programmers deemed it unnecessary for him to communicate in organic languages."  
  
Spock resumes eating his lunch. "That is logical."  
  
Threepio continues assisting Artoo with the repairs.  
  
When Spock finishes his lunch, he looks at Nyota for a long moment. He's debating whether it would be appropriate to kiss her or not. In five minutes, everybody would be coming back inside to continue repairs. It is not appropriate for them to fraternise whilst on duty, but he wants to - as illogical as the notion is.  
  
Spock gives in to his desires - there is no logical reason not to, aside from it being illogical. He removes Nyota's plate from her lap - much to her confusion - and places it beside him. He raises his hands to her cheeks and kisses her passionately. 'They're only droids,' he thinks briefly, aware that the droids are watching. She returns this, albeit surprisedly so, at first. Her hands circle him. She raises them to his cheeks; he drops his own down to her waste. He cuddles her as he kisses her.  
  
Threepio looks away, trying his best to be polite, Artoo beeps to him and they start bickering, their voices a whisper. [Why aren't you like that to me?]   
  
"It simply isn't protocol, and we are supposed to be working… We can be intimate later." Artoo beeps, disappointed. "Don't look at me like that, we can be intimate next time we have a break."  
  
Upon hearing droids, Spock hesitantly pulls away. "As C-3PO said, it is pertinent that we continue with our work. We can be… " He pauses, looking around. "Intimate, later." He places a brief kiss on Nyota's forehead and goes to work beside Threepio once again. Although his tone and expression appear emotionless, he is certain that Nyota can correctly read the appreciation in his eyes.  
  
Threepio isn't really productive as Artoo is antagonizing him. "Stop poking me! I'm trying to work," Threepio protests at the smaller droid. Artoo insists that he didn't do anything and continues working.  
  
Nyota grabs both hers and Spock's cutlery and replaces them in her bag. In his peripheral vision Spock sees her stop halfway through the door. She turns around and caresses Artoo's dome. "I know what it's like," she says before walking out. Spock begins to feel somewhat guilty.  
  
Artoo beeps, nothing in binary, just a noise he makes. Threepio finishes working on his current project and starts helping Artoo, they quietly bicker and flirt with each other while working, but they are surprisingly productive.  
  
Spock places most of his focus into his work. Though, he watches as the droids flirt. He's attempting to learn from them. Flirting is still new to him.  
  
Threepio notices that Spock is watching them. He turns awkwardly. "Is there something that is bothering you, Sir?"  
  
"No, C-3PO. I was simply observing your behaviours in an attempt to further understand the act of flirting."  
  
"Very well, Sir." He is puzzled as he turns to his counterpart. "Artoo, do you have a reading on the ship's current state?"  
  
[Yep, we made progress.]   
  
"Excellent, Artoo!"  
  
"I concur, we have made ample time with regards to the repairs of your ship."  
  
Threepio nods, "My friends are very skilled in this manner as this ship is rarely in prime condition."  
  
"You have not considered upgrading or replacing your ship? That would surely be logical considering the age of this space vehicle."  
  
"Captain Solo is attached to this ship."  
  
Spock nods. "It is illogical to develop emotional attachment to an inanimate object. Although, I understand Captain Solo's sentiment. I, too, on occasion, have developed a regard for such items that allow me to meditate more fully on a subject."  
  
Threepio nods, he thinks for a moment. "Are we inanimate objects?"  
  
Artoo lets out a sighing beep: [Threepio, we talked about this… ]   
  
"No, we didn't; I do not remember."   
  
[Must have been before…] Threepio tilts his head, becoming upset. [We are sentient, Threeps, so we are animate.] Threepio doesn't seem convinced. Artoo nudges him, Threepio sighs and puts his hand on his counterpart, then continues working.  
  
Spock nods. "R2-D2 is correct in his analysis. You are not inanimate objects. You have independent opinions."  
  
Threepio continues to work. It's a bit difficult to be convinced when one has been called an object their whole existence. He checks the time.  
  
Spock continues too, unaware that he may have offended the droids. He is not effective at understanding how his actions may emotionally affect others.  
  
[Everything is online except for the Hyperdrive. The shields need 5o be fixed as well.] The Astromech reports. It's probably going to take longer than usual.  
  
"Five-o?" Spock asks with a raised eyebrow.  
  
[To, I meant, something must've glitched.] Artoo corrects himself.  
  
"The hyperdrive is not yet repaired?"  
  
"It appears to not be. Without a functioning Hyperdrive, it would be difficult to get back to our galaxy."  
  
Spock envies Kirk's openness in this moment. He suppresses the urge to respond 'no shit'.  
  
[Thank you, Captain Obvious.]   
  
"I am not a captain, Artoo." Artoo makes an exasperated noise that cannot be translated. "Oh, that was a joke, wasn't it?"  
  
"I believe it was," Spock clarifies for Artoo.  
  
[Threeps, I love you, but aren't jokes in your protocol?]   
  
"Not really, no."  
  
"That is unfortunate. There have been numerous instances in which I have attempted to further understand the nature and conventions of humour in order to more effectively comprehend human behaviour. I believe that Lieutenant Uhura is most amusing."  
  
[Threepio sometimes gets jokes. Emphasis on sometimes.]  
  
"You are not able to place emphasis on your beeps?" Spock inquires. "You must speak your emphasis?"  
  
Threepio silently chuckles at that, surprisingly. "He was trying to make his point more clear as some things get lost in translation."  
  
"Fascinating," Spock responds quietly. He continues to work and struggles to lift a large piece of the ship that has broken.  
  
The droids help him. Artoo doesn't look it, but he's pretty strong. Threepio: not so much but he's trying his best.  
  
The piece slides neatly into place and Spock feels a swell of satisfaction.  
  
Artoo beeps triumphantly and then rivets a piece back into place.  
  
***  
  
As dusk fell upon the following day, Spock declares the work day over and relieves the officers for their evening meal. Spock, meanwhile, chooses to go to the small rock he had sat on the previous day. Again, the jOn star is moments from setting and the sky is lit in a way not dissimilar to Earth's sunsets. Spock ponders over the possibility of there being animalia biology on or below Di'jOn's surface. The planet appears habitable, it is a minshara planet after all. While he has not witnessed any life forms, other than those from the Falcon or Enterprise, the likelihood of multicellular animalia organisms hidden in caves or residing underground is not low. Spock had found water on the within caves and around the trees the previous day, but had not told Captain Kirk - it hadn't been relevant at that juncture. The desert planet is not unlike that of his home, aside from the three forests that lay only along the equator. With cascading cliff edges and airborne dust particles within the occasional gust of wind, it makes Spock feel almost homesick, however illogical such a notion may be. The heat of the local star is not strong, when compared with Vulcan, but Spock is sure that it equates to the average temperature of Africa on Earth.  
  
Threepio looks out at the planet Di'j0n. He slightly panics as he finds himself overheating. He activates his cooling systems. It seems that he has pushed himself too hard with working. He feels dizzy. He sits down. Artoo looks at him with concern.  
  
Spock remains silent, comfortable in the peace that has settled around the three of them. He is aware that logic dictates direction to go to dinner, though he does not desire to eat. He wishes to be here.  
  
Threepio stands back up. Oh dear, his battery is low on charge again, it must be the heat and the amount of work he has been doing. He stumbles back to Spock Rock to recharge himself. He sits down clumsily and plugs the charging cord into his socket.  
  
"Greetings, C-3PO. I presume our repairs remain on schedule?" Spock asks, not one to delve into the depths, or lack thereof, of small talk.  
  
"Yes, yes, they are on schedule, Sir," he says with a voice full of exhaustion. "The repairs should be completed very soon."  
  
"That is fortunate. One more day should suffice, as originally scheduled." Spock takes a deep breath. "You and Artoo are well?"  
  
"Artoo is well, Sir. He is very efficient with his work." He looks down. "He makes a very fine astromech and I am grateful to be his counterpart."  
  
"That, too, is fortunate." Spock withdraws slightly and stiffens his posture.   
  
Threepio nods, "I am taking a rest, Sir, as I seemed to overwork myself." The droid is disappointed that he cannot work as well as he wished. Changing the topic, he looks over to Spock, noticing his change disposition he asks, "Are you alright, Sir?"  
  
Abashed at his letting his emotions control his actions, even somewhat, Spock's face becomes entirely neutral. If a droid can notice his internal conflict, who, then, can't? He decides to let up. Possibly, confessing his emotions to another may aid his situation. "C-3PO, Lieutenant Uhura and I engaged in a… heated discussion last night. I am not certain how to comprehend the outcome."  
  
"Did you two have an argument?" He asks for clarification. The droid was familiar with dealing with arguments and heated discussions. He turned himself to face Spock.  
  
"A forbidden topic was raised during our discussion. Nyota and I debate frequently, though when the topic of my near death experience is raised, in whatever instance, we have strictly conflicting opinions and she is unwilling to acknowledge the logical reasoning for my own. Her own, however, are incredibly illogical. She is being unreasonable…" Spock sighs. "And I have explained to her as much, though she is unwilling to listen or compromise."  
  
Threepio listens. He is still confused, "Please clarify."  
  
Spock looks into his lap. "Three years, four months, twenty-two days, seven hours ago, the Enterprise was assigned a mission to rescue the people of Nibiru from the eruption of a volcano that had a ninety-seven percent chance of eliminating all highly intelligent life forms on the planet's surface. The Federation wished to prevent this, for reasons I am still uncertain. This particular mission, I was under orders to position myself in the mouth of the volcano and render the device used to halt the volcano's natural procedure operational." There is only darkness outside as the star sets below the horizon. "The ferocity of the volcano's initial eruption was greater than anticipated and incorrect calculations resulted in my being stranded in the mouth of an active volcano." Spock pauses. "There are regulations in place that prevent Starfleet from introducing developing worlds, species, and cultures to technology beyond the scope of their current understanding. This is the prime directive. In order for my rescue, the prime directive had to be disobeyed. I do not believe in ignoring regulation, nor do I believe that the value of my life outweighs the impact on Niribu's society as a consequence of witnessing the Enterprise. I repeatedly insisted that the Captain do not rescue me. Afterward, I allowed myself to be content with my death. I did not wish to experience the overwhelming negative emotions that one usually feels immediately prior to death, so I simply decided not to feel."  
  
Spock repositions himself to look at Threepio. "Nyota highly disagrees with my belief that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, with regards to that particular instance. As a master of my emotions, I simply choose not to feel. Nyota insists that I did not care. This is inaccurate, though she is unwilling to listen to my reasoning. She claims that I did not consider her emotions on the matter - how she would feel if I had died. I had assured her that the truth is precisely the opposite, though her ignorance and disbelief is both inaccurate and uncharacteristic of her. I am still uncertain as to how to assess such a situation. Often, I have discovered that humans (Nyota and my mother in particular) are incredibly complex beings. They allow their emotions to illogically cloud their judgement and are unwilling to be swayed by reason." Spock continues, "this… topic was raised again yesterday evening and Nyota is proceeding to provide me with 'the silent treatment' - which I have come to believe corresponds with her increased ignorance and detachment."  
  
Threepio tilts his head, absorbing the large amount of information that was said. "You seem to be contradicting yourself, Mr. Spock. If you truly didn't want to be saved, would you have bothered to contact your crew at all? Or was there a little part of you that wished to be saved? You must have chosen to contact the ship as you must have had some hope that, despite your request, you would be rescued." Threepio pauses, he thinks for a moment. "I wonder if you are afraid, Mr. Spock. Afraid of losing your control. You seem to not show emotions, but it must be that deep down, you are feeling them. I may be wrong, Sir, I apologise…" Threepio breaks eye contact with Spock and looks anywhere but Spock. "One may assume, Mr. Spock, that by seeking to resolve the conflict with Ms. Uhura that it shows that you do care,” he backtracks and explains his response. “Apologies again, Sir, this may not be the truth, yet I try my best to understand different species and cultures. My primary functions are protocol and etiquette and this situation falls under those categories."  
  
"You are not incorrect, C-3PO." Spock looks back down to his lap at his uncharacteristically intertwined fingers. "I do feel emotions. Deeply so." His back is still straight when he says, "it was not a matter of contacting the crew. We are in constant contact through communication devices. Jim was insistent upon saving me. He disobeyed the prime directive and was reprimanded."  
  
Spock speaks again, "I did not wish for the crew's careers to be threatened due to my miscalculations. It was illogical of them to save me. I was content with death. Nyota insists that I suffer from a human condition known as depression. I am not depressed. I was simply content with death."  
  
"I fear death, memory wipes, reactivation and reprogramming, Sir. Sometimes I know that it is inevitable but I still fear it and the fear hurts every time. I am both envious and intrigued that you do not fear it." He adjusts his posture, looking at his hands. "Many different sentients seem to cope with this in different ways. Some are okay with it, some are not. Artoo and I have different emotional responses to situations. He is brave and quick witted in stressful situations. I am not, yet we do our best to understand each other even though we respond differently." He looks at the sky. "No matter our differences, we are counterparts. I won't give up on him and he won't give up on me. That's what a good relationship is, Sir."  
  
Spock sits silent - he does not know how to respond. His relationship with Nyota is very much like that which Threepio has just described. He cares about her, respects her, values her and, as unwilling as he is to admit it, treats her differently - with more affection - than others, even when on duty. A small gust of dry wind howls around and Spock squints.  
  
"Apologies, Sir, I may have overstepped my boundaries. Shall I power down for now?"  
  
Spock looks at Threepio. "I must speak with Nyota."  
  
He nods. "Go ahead. Shall I power down for the time being?"  
  
"You may."  
  
Threepio powers himself down, his optical units are dark. He charges faster that way.  
  
Spock stands up abruptly and makes for an open area. Pulling it his comm, he says, "Lieutenant Commander Scott?"   
  
"Aye, Commander," Scotty responds and Spock begins fading onto the Enterprise. He walks directly to Nyota's quarters. Spock’s thoughts congeal into one, single objective.   
  
"Commander Spock?" Both surprise and frustration are prominent in her expression. "What are you doing here?"   
  
"May I enter?" Spock asks hastily, nodding at the open door.   
  
"What do you want, Spock?" She sighs, unmoving.   
  
"Nyota," he begins. "Please, may I enter?" She moves back and actions for him to go inside.  
  
Spock walks over to the bed and debates whether or not to sit down. Although he is usually decisive, he finds himself unable to hold himself to his own standards.  
  
"Yes?" Nyota prompts, a fatigue in her voice - uncharacteristic of her to not get sufficient rest.   
  
"You have not slept?" He avoids the topic at hand, he is certain she is aware.   
  
"I have," she mumbles. "Why are you here? I said I needed some space."   
  
"We serve aboard a starship, do you not have enough 'space'?" His somewhat 'smart-ass' comment remains unanswered when he decides to stop beating around the bush. "I spoke with C-3PO," he begins, uncertain how to reconcile, having never succeeded at this juncture beforehand.   
  
"You do that a lot." The bags under her eyes and slight slouch encourage Spock to speak faster.  
  
"With regards to our particular situation." Nyota straightens. She is still beside the door, she, supposedly, is hoping that he will leave. "I believe his comment was: 'we do our best to understand each other even though we respond differently. No matter our differences, we are counterparts. I won't give up on him and he won't give up on me'." Spock lets his comment sit for a moment.   
  
"And… ?" Nyota says before a yawn overtakes her body.   
  
"And, I believe that, although C-3PO was referring specifically to his and R2-D2's situation, his comment inadvertently applies to us as well." Now, she moves towards him. A wave of relief washes over him as he works to subside his happiness.   
  
"What are you saying, Spock?" Her small hand presses against his chest.   
  
"We must understand one another, Nyota. We have different beliefs and experiences. And… " He pauses. "Although it would be most logical for you to simply understand that my decision was logical and that you should take no offence, I am willing to compromise." He covers her hand with his own. "I do not wish to 'give up on you', K'diwa. And I do not enjoy the experience of 'the silent treatment' - I fail to see it's purpose. If you, too, would be willing to truly comprehend my own thoughts on the matter, you might… " He trails off and raises his hand in question. "May I?" She nods slowly and he places his fingertips on her psi-points. In his mind, he addresses her, _Ashayam_?  
  
_Spohkh_ , she responds. It's not as if they have never melded before, it's the matter of the topic in which they are about to explore. He has both never been willing to share, nor has she wanted to know. Now, though, it is different. He slowly guides her through the experience on the unfamiliar planet - beginning with his joy when she kissed his helmet. Although he'd thought it terribly illogical, he'd understood and appreciated the sentiment. He vividly outlined to her his underlying fear and excitement at entering the mouth of an erupting volcano. He then guides her through his memories of the chord snapping and the situation unravelling. When she begins to become overwhelmed, he retreats. _Don't. I'm okay_ , she assures him.  
  
He leads her back into his memories, this time, he takes her to his memory of Admiral Pike's death. What he had been feeling on the brink of death. It had made Spock realise that in the face of certain death, one should, given the opportunity, choose not to feel. All Pike - Chris - had felt was anger and frustration, disappointment and regret. _I do not desire to experience these emotions upon my death_ , he explains through the meld. _When I began to feel regret about you-_  
  
Nyota pulls back abruptly. "Regret about me? What regret, Spock? What the hell?"  
  
"Nyota, I have advised you numerous times that it is dangerous-" She backs away from him hastily and exits her quarters. Desperate times call for desperate measures, Spock decides as he chases after his… Are they still considered partners? 'Surely,' Spock thinks, not willing to experience the emotions that'll consume him if it is not true. "Lieutenant Uhura, please cease your vacation."   
  
She stops then, turns around. Even though Spock is notorious for behavioural misinterpretation, he is almost certain that the tightness in her jaw and furrowing of her eyebrows can be attributed to extreme anger - or fury, as his mother would've put it. "Don't formal Lieutenant Uhura me!" she snaps. "You don't have any-" She stops herself. "Regret? This is what I am to you; a regret?" She scoffs and Spock simply listens as she continues on, "what have I ever done that's put you in a compromised situation, eh? What have I not sacrificed for you? When have I not willingly changed my opinions and beliefs - or compromised, as you so 'nicely' put it? I've gone out of my way to help you, understand you, accommodate you time and time again. And, what have you done - compromised - for me? Zilch." Spock notices people staring at them as he moves towards her. He reaches out, but she pulls herself quickly out of arm's length. "Kutomba wewe," she mumbles in Swahili, her native tongue. It translates to 'fuck you'.  
  
When she doesn't speak for over a minute, Spock steps in. "I was not finished speaking-" 'Oh, Surak,' Spock thinks when she interrupts him again. "I was not finished speaking, either. When your mother died, who did you fall back on? Who helped you get over the weight of an entire world on your shoulders? Who sat comfortably as a canvas for your complicated, twisted emotions? Who spent hours trying to understand your culture and history to better learn how to deal with a grieving Vulcan? Who sacrificed full nights of sleep to meditate with a man who was not even willing to verbally open up? That was me." She points to herself as she says it. "I did that. I gave up on my wellbeing for three months! I had to force you to speak with your father! I did that because I love you! I changed because I love you. I… compromised… because I love you. And, when you think that you're gonna die, all I am to you is a regret?" She takes a deep breath. "You don't even have the guts to say you love me back and I've accepted that. I've gone about my daily life knowing - well, at least, I thought I knew - that you loved me too, you just weren't able to say it. But that's all utter bullshit, isn't it?"   
  
Spock visibly swallows. "Nyota, may we speak in private?"   
  
Nyota giggles sarcastically. "All the damage is done, Spock. No need to go 'private' now."  
  
"Very well." He looks up at her. "As I was saying, I was not finished explaining." He nods at her. "You were not the regret. My regret lies with that which you have addressed. I have been… unaccommodating with regards to the sacrifices made between us in our relationship. I regret this and I have struggled to understand how I should openly reciprocate these emotions. I have completed extensive research on human displays of affection. You claim that this - our - relationship has been difficult for you; I struggle as well. To feel and experience these emotions is disturbing. My entire childhood, I was trained to banish, repress these emotions. I was arranged a marriage and assured that the difficulties of courtship would not apply to me. I sacrificed that certainty because my… " He pauses and takes a deep breath.   
  
"You don't ha-"   
  
"My love for you overwhelms me. I do not know how to contain it." He looks at her deeply in the eyes. "These human emotions remain alien to me. Logic dictates that our relationship should not work. Realistically, I should never have attempted to begin a relationship. The chances of it succeeding beyond three months - taking into account human dating patterns, our personalities, values, and attitudes - was below four percent. And, even so, I wished to. I kissed you. I regret not embracing these emotions earlier. I regret not asking my mother how to better express my emotions. I am afraid," he confesses cautiously. "I am afraid of the effect you have on me and yet, I am unwilling to let you go - to leave you because I am well aware that you deserve a partner who satisfies you. I do not enjoy it when you are angry. I do not enjoy my emotions when you are sad. I experience happiness when you are happy. This should not be possible. Your emotions and feelings inspire my own.  
  
He continues, "I remain confused, despite having begun my research four years, eleven months, and ten hours ago. My experiences contradict everything I have ever been taught. Please do not assume that I do not struggle also-"   
  
"I didn't-" He raises his hand.   
  
"Please allow me to continue. I understand your difficulties and I apologise for my… inconsideration. I implore you to attempt to understand my experiences with regards to our relationship and my emotions. Upon beginning this relationship, I was certain there would be cultural misunderstanding… " He trails off. "There were many instances in which I debated terminating our relationship, freeing you from the obligation. But, my emotions would not allow it. I was - am - compelled to be with you, to satisfy you. I desire your happiness. Please, in future, if you choose to remain with me, express your disappointment in me and understand that it is unintentional. I wish to prevent it. I do not enjoy our arguments. Nyota - K'hat'n'dlawa, I love you. T'ashaya vu. Nakupenda, Nyota Uhura. You are my star." He looks back at her room like a starving dog. "Please may we continue this… discussion… in private?"   
  
Where Spock makes for the door, Nyota does not. Her face remains neutral. Until she leaps forward, turns him around, and kisses him with a force greater than ever before. Her arms slide around his neck and her fingers play in his hair. At first, Spock is surprised; his body freezes and he almost pulls back. But then, he relaxes into the kiss and pulls her body into him, cuddling her. They stay in each other's arms for a long moment before pulling away when they find themselves unable to breathe.   
  
"I am sorry, Nyota." She pats his flat chest gently, apparently grateful for the smile he allows her to see.   
  
"So am I, Spohkh. I love you too." She smiles and turns her head to rest her cheek against him.  
  
He sees Threepio in the distance and does not repress the smile on his face when the droid nods. "T'nash-veh k'diwa, Nyota Uhura," he mumbles into her hair - an action so unlike him that he hears Nyota hum in response. Maybe he should indulge his emotions much more often.


End file.
